


The Shards of Our Souls

by mitchmatch24



Series: Mind. Body. Soul. [1]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Addiction, Aftercare, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Cock Warming, Cum Eating, Cutting, Daddy Kink, Depression, Dirty Talk, Dom!Hotch, Dom/sub, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Homophobia, Hotch is bi, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Intimacy, Jealous Aaron Hotchner, Kidnapping, Light Dom/sub, Like a lot of dirty talk, M/M, Masochism, Oral Sex, PTSD, Possessive Aaron Hotchner, Praise Kink, Protective Aaron Hotchner, References to Addiction, References to Depression, Self Harm, Sex Toys, Sexual Content, Sir Kink, Slurs, Smut, Spanking, Teasing, The BAu - Freeform, This will slowly get more kinky, Top!Hotch, Worried Aaron Hotchner, degradation kink, idk what it really is but its there, just give it some time, some brat taming, we do have a plot here, worried BAU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:28:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 46
Words: 185,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26743639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitchmatch24/pseuds/mitchmatch24
Summary: The new kid on the block, Reese Benson, is struggling with the hell that is addiction. Little does he know, attempting to hide it from his fellow profilers isn't exactly a great plan.—Aaron Hotchner is the no nonsense unit chief of the BAU. He’s had his eye on the newest addition of the team for a while. When Reese gets caught up in a world of unresolved pain, he can’t help but step in to set the young man straight again. And he may or may not claim him in the process.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Original Male Character
Series: Mind. Body. Soul. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2045074
Comments: 77
Kudos: 116





	1. In the beginning...

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work, so I understand that it might fucking suck. I haven't exactly planned it out, but I do plan on writing more chapters and building on this storyline. If someone actually reads this and likes it, I will be surprised. Buckle up, this could be a shit show. Also, I wrote it in first person POV, so just be aware of that. Happy reading. Also, apologies for any spelling/ grammatical errors. It's midnight where I live and I have no braincells left. I will fix them later :)
> 
> ALSO, HUGE TRIGGER WARNING FOR SELF HARM.

“It is the strange fate of man, that even in the greatest of evils the worst continues to haunt him.”  
-Johann Wolfgang van Goethe

* * *

“Fuck.” I exhaled slightly. My breath came quick and short as I inhaled. The knife in my hands cut deep into my already red skin. The knife was slick blood and sweat. I cut into myself again. And again. Until there were three deep cuts in my thigh. I slid my thumb over the top two cuts and sighed again.

“Reese? Are you in there?”

I heard registered Reid’s voice even though I was slightly high from the adrenaline and euphoric feelings coursing throughout my body.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be out in a second Reid. I just… I needed a minute.”

  
“Alright. Well, try and hurry. We are going to give the profile briefing here in a few minutes.”

  
“Ok.” My words came out short and clipped. I tried to make my voice steady in an attempt to mask the slight internal panic from nearly being caught cutting mid-case by a coworker. I was just happy it wasn’t Hotch or Morgan who came looking for me. Those two could be relentless in their confrontations and I knew I would break down if they started interrogating me about my less than healthy coping and de-stressing mechanism.

I pulled my jeans back up and buckled my belt. I unlocked and stepped out of the small bathroom stall and stared at my reflection in the mirror, trying to get it together. I needed to slip my mask of impassivity back over my face, but it was becoming difficult. That was the closest I had ever come to being caught cutting myself open. I had never done it while working a case before. I began slowing my breathing, needing to regain any sense of control I could over my body. I cleaned the small Swiss army knife I carried in my pocket for emergencies and dried it with a towel, before slipping the black casing into my pocket. I splashed cold water on my face and dried my face with a towel. I did a quick blood check.

_Nothing. Good. Good, you just need to carry on. Just push on and act like nothing ever happened and no one will suspect anything._

I opened the door of the men’s restroom and stepped out into Denver PD’s offices. I walked briskly through the hall and opened the door to the conference room where the rest of the team was set up. Morgan glanced back at me before returning his eyes to the evidence board in front of him. A serial arsonist was setting fire to buildings and scaring the hell out of the community.

“We need to give the profile. Benson can I speak with you a minute?” Hotch asked, not looking up from the file he was examining.

  
“Sure Hotch.”

The others filed out of the room, going to start the profile briefing. I felt a sickness deep in my gut.

_He knows. Oh my god he fucking knows. I’m so fucked. I’m gonna lose my god damn job. Fuck. Fuck._

I stood in silence for a moment before he brought his face up to meet my eyes, his face expressionless.

“Is there something going on with you? Is there something about this case that bothers you?” He asked, a hint of concern in his tone. I knew Hotch well enough to know he was a damn good profiler. And I knew that he took care of his team.

“I... I um... I’m just r-really tired right now. I haven’t um... I haven’t been sleeping very well.” I prayed that he took that answer and would let me join the rest of the team, who were probably halfway through the damn briefing at this point.

“Are you sure?” Hotch eyed my face. I knew he was looking for micro expressions. Any hint that I was lying. Trust was a sticking point with him. As the newest and youngest member of the BAU, I wasn’t very well known. But when I found myself with a team of profilers, I knew that they recorded your behavior in their brains. For the most part I remained impassive all the time. Never giving much away. I wasn’t one for emotions, but when they came, they came at me HARD.

“Yes sir. I’m fine, just a little tired.”

Hotch took one last look at my face before deciding what I was saying was believable. “Alright. Go join the others.” He returned his gaze to the case file and resumed his examination of its contents as I strode quickly out of the room.

_That was fucking close. Too close. Note to self: never cut in public, especially in the middle of a case, before a profile briefing for god’s sake._

I walked into the main office area where cops and firefighters took notes about the unsub.

“Look for someone who is incredibly volatile. He will come off as angry, short tempered. He will have had some sort of stressor that built into a trigger has caused him to snap. Getting fired or a broken engagement or divorce. He will be closed off, but others will notice. That is all for right now,” Morgan said, voice loud and confident. People began getting up and moving around the office. Taking phone calls and returning to their canvassing assignments or patrols.

“Hey kid. You good? You look like someone just stabbed you.” Morgan said.

It took my brain a moment to wrap itself around the question, before kicking back into gear. “I’m uh… I’m fine. Just tired.” I said clearing my throat.

_If only he knew how close he was to the truth. He’d probably be disgusted if he knew. Just like your entire family when they found out._

Morgan’s deep hazel eyes searched my own, just as Hotch’s had. “If you say so kid. Just know you can talk to me or any of us.”

I tried to make words fall out of my mouth. Finally, they fell out. “Thanks, but I’m still new here so it will be a while before I start getting personal.”

“Whatever you need kid.” Morgan replied.

“Thanks Morgan,” was all I could muster in response, before getting back to work.

* * *

The end of the case came a few hours later when the arsonist called into the tip line. He gave himself up too easily. He was trying to kill his ex-wife and newborn, who he wasn’t allowed to see anymore. He was in a prison cell and everyone had made it out ok.

I walked through the hotel lobby in silence, the rest of the team talking and laughing with each other.

“Hey Benson, you want to come and get a bite to eat and a drink with us?” I looked at Prentiss, who had asked me the question. I felt exhausted. Too much had happened throughout the day and I knew it wouldn’t be smart to then try and drink it away.

“Thanks for the offer, but I am fucking beat. I’m gonna head to my room and crash.”

“You sure, kid? We don’t takeoff until tomorrow afternoon, so its not like you will miss out on sleep,” Derek said, a grin on his face.

“Come onnnnnn,” Emily said, “you have yet to drink with us. Just this once, please.”

I didn’t have the energy to be stubborn or argue. “Fine. I’ll come drink with you crazy fuckers.”

“Yeahhh” Morgan and Emily said triumphantly. Everyone began walking to the hotel’s bar. I followed behind, before slipping on a bar stool, waiting to order a drink. “Vodka on the rocks please.”

“Woah, woah there kid. Vodka on the rocks? What are you, a fucking college student?” Derek said, teasing.

“I sure feel like it right now, only you’re the dumbass upperclassmen that dragged me out here,” I shot back at him.

“I’m hurt.” Derek feigned hurt before chuckling lightly. Emily, Spencer, and Rossi laughed beside us. The bartender sat my drink on the counter, and I took it in my hands before sipping the contents of the tumbler. It slid down my throat, the taste lurking in my mouth. I had always enjoyed the shitty taste of vodka, especially when cold. Derek smirked, “how’s your torture in a glass of ice?”

I glared at him, sipping my drink again before replying, “its fucking wonderful, thanks for asking. What are you gonna drink? A fucking cosmo? A margarita? Something that fucking light weights drink?” Derek heard the sarcasm dripping from my words, before taking it as a challenge.

“You weigh what, 130 pounds soaking wet? I could out drink you all day, Benson. Everyone knows that.”

I knocked back the rest of my drink. “Oh yeah? Jager bombs, right fucking now smartass.” Derek laughed while the rest of the team, even Hotch, stared at me.

_What better way to distract the team about how off I’ve been then a good ole drinking contest? Maybe I can rope Emily into this too._

  
“Emily, you best believe you're in this contest too,” I said, a smirk on my face.

Emily looked at me before raising her hands up by her head, “I’m not in this, this is between you two idiots.”

  
“You got me to this bar to drink with you for the first time, its only fair I get to see how well you can drink too,” I said in response, “you're in this as much as Derek is.”

JJ smiled before taking my side of this dilemma, “Yeahhh Emily. You should out drink all three of us.” I quirked my eyebrow before realization came. She was going to drink with us too. I was fucked. Not because I couldn’t hold alcohol or anything, but because I was about to get drunk on overpriced hotel bar shots.

Finally, Emily responded, “Alright, all three of you clowns are on.”

“You want in Hotch? Rossi? Hell, Reid you want to get drunk with us?” I asked. All of them shook their heads, amused expressions on their faces.

Hotch took a sip of his beer before saying, “You made your bed, you lie in it Benson. I’m just here to watch and then carry you up to your room because you’re probably going to be too drunk to make it their yourself.” He sounded confident that I wouldn’t be able to out drink the other three.

“We’ll see about that” Rossi said, fake disappointment in his amused tone.

* * *

Too many shots later, I came out on top in this ridiculous drinking contest. Being an idiot in college had its perks… well, sometimes at least. Morgan groaned, “No way I just got out drank by a fucking 24-year-old twig."

I smirked before saying “you sure did there, big boy.” Hotch chuckled while Reid sat there in slight shock. Emily and JJ had stopped way before Derek and I and had taken their exits earlier.

“Damn it Reese,” Derek said, glaring. I might get my ass beat because of my cocky mouth, but I didn’t care.

Then it happened. The internal social battery began running dry. I could feel my withdrawal coming. “Listen, I would love to revel in my victory, but I really need to go shower and then go to bed.” I paid my tab before exiting. I walked to the bank of elevators in the back of the hotel. Reid took a place beside me. We stood in silence waiting for an elevator to open. I heard a familiar ding before I sauntered into the open elevator, hitting the number 4 and then leaning against the wall beside the control panel. Reid and I rode up in silence. The doors opened and I stepped out, “Night Reid.” I walked to my room, unlocked the door, walked in, pushed the door behind me and began changing into some shorts and a t-shirt. I fell face first on the bed, groaning.

_Why did I think a drinking contest was a good idea again? Fuck I need to cut. I need release._

I took my swiss army knife out of my jeans and popped the blade out. I pulled the leg of my gym shorts up a little bit before slicing into my right thigh. “Fuck” I whispered, euphoria running its course. Next thing I knew there was a knock on my door. “Benson? You left your ID on the counter.” I quickly registered Hotch’s voice, and internal panic rushed through me all too quickly.

“Give me a second!” My voice shakes slightly. I opened the nightstand drawer and placed the knife inside and wiped my blood on my black shorts. I rushed over to the door and opened it, begging I could play this off. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

Hotch gave me a weird look. I was too drunk and way too panicked to know what it was.

“You left your ID. Here.” Hotch held it out to me. I reached for it. Before I realized what was happening, Hotch was grabbing my wrist and looking at the palm of my hands and my fingers.

_**SHIT.** My blood is on my hands. My dried fucking blood. What the fuck am I going to say? What am I going to do? Shitshitshitshit._

“Benson, what the hell is this?”

  
“Um, that would be m-my blood, sir.”

  
“Why is your blood on your damn hands? I thought you said you were ok when I spoke to you earlier? Is there something going on? Is there something I need to know?”

I swallowed past a lump in my throat before scrambling for a response, “No I just cut my thigh with my pocket knife while trying to open something. I swear I’m fine.”

_PLEASE DEAR GOD BELIEVE THAT SHIT. PLEASE DEAR FUCKING GOD._

“Benson…” he held the bridge of his nose between his fingers, “please be careful. You had so much to drink, you don’t need to be trying to use sharp or dangerous objects.”

_HE FUCKING BOUGHT IT! OH THANK GOD!_

“I will sir. Thank you for returning my ID.” I took it from his hand and then spoke again, “Good night sir.”

  
“Good night, Benson. Remember, we leave at 2 o’clock tomorrow afternoon. Don’t be late.”

  
“I won’t sir.” I shut the door, exhaling.  
I’m safe. Thank god.

Little did I know, Hotch definitely did NOT buy my excuse.


	2. The Jet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reese has a mental breakdown after being confronted by Hotch on the jet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Anxiety attacks, self harm
> 
> This chapter is somewhat heavy. I know I literally just posted the first one, but I want people to have a decent amount of story when they start reading (I also have time). Again, apologies for any spelling and grammatical errors. Happy reading, kind stranger.

“The strongest man in the world is he who stands most alone.”  
-Henrik Ibsen

* * *

  
_Beep beep beep._ I woke to my alarm beeping loudly. I glanced over to the nightstand. _10:00am. Great._ I shut off the alarm and rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling. I needed a shower and a cup of coffee and I needed it now. I rose out of the stiff hotel mattress, stretching.

“I am never being that stupid again,” I muttered under my breath. I walked into the adjoining bathroom, turning on the hot water and stripping out of my clothing. I looked at myself in the mirror. My gray irises staring back at me in the mirror. I’m a solid 5 feet 10 inches and I weigh around 155 pounds, rather than the 130 Morgan thinks I weigh. I ran a hand through my disheveled hair. It was short, tapered on the sides but my bangs sat up on my forehead, conditioned to do so. It was a deep chocolate color.

I stepped under the scalding hot water, groaning. The droplets made my shoulders red from the excessive heat. I took my shampoo and opened the bottle before squeezing some into my hand, snapping the bottle closed, rubbing my hands together. I lathered the soap in my hair and stepped back under the hot spray, washing it out. I repeated the lathering with my conditioner. I took the complementary soap bar in my hands and scrubbed my entire body. I rubbed my soapy hand against my cut-up thigh. “Ow, son of a bitch,” I breathed, pain shooting throughout my thigh. I rubbed the dried blood off my upper leg, then finished washing my body and hair. I cut off the water and stepped out of the shower.

I dried myself quickly, stepping into the cold of my room. I took an extra pair of jeans and a polo out of my go bag. I stepped into my jeans and threw my shirt over my head. I put on my socks and my boots. I rushed threw my routine, I needed caffeine and wanted to get through my reports on the jet. I opened the nightstand and took my knife out. I cleaned it, quick and efficient. I put everything in my go bag. I double checked the room, ensuring I had all my belongings. I holstered my gun and slipped my badge in my pocket.

I met my team in the hotel lobby. “I need caffeine and food,” I said as I approached them.

“Hey, look who finally decided to join us,” JJ said, laughing slightly.

I glared before responding, “this is not the time Jayje.”

“You can get coffee on the jet, kid. You hungover? You look like hell.” Derek said, smirking.

“I look and drink better than you do, smart guy.” I shot back, sarcastic. Derek and I chuckled, continuing our normal banter. “Wait, why is everyone here so early?” I asked, confused because we didn’t take off for another 2 and a half hours.

“The pilots had the plane ready faster than we thought they would. We were about to call you.” Hotch said casually, “let’s get to the airstrip.”

* * *

  
I took a seat at the back of the jet. The chair in front of me left vacant while the others were sitting together or on the couch. I put my headphones in my ears, needing to get into a more focused headspace to do all these reports. Before I could open my file Hotch sat down in front of me, motioning for me to take my headphones out.

 _ **Shit.** _“What do you need Hotch?” I asked, my tone full of forced confidence. I forced a wave of confidence to run through my body. I looked at Hotch, my emotions masked behind impassivity. Hotch mirrored my mask, his own face masked behind impassivity.

“Last night I knocked on your hotel room door to give you your ID and found your hands covered in your own blood, what do you think I want to talk to you about?”

 _I am absolutely, royally fucked. I thought I played it off._ “Hotch, I told you I cut myself trying to open something. That’s all it is. No need to panic or anything. I was drunk.”

Hotch’s stare intensified. _Yeah, I am fucked._ “If you honestly think that I believe that, you are truly naïve, but we are not going to talk about this here. The second we step off this jet your going to talk to me about this in my office.” Hotch said, authoritative.

Then it broke. The mask broke. I felt a look of shock and panic wipe over my face. Hotch stood, returning to his original seat as we got cleared to taxi. I sat, frozen in fear and panic. My breathing became quick and sharp. My body began shaking. I felt sobs trying to rack my body. Then it came. The anxiety settled in my gut and ran its torturous course. We were in mid takeoff. The minute I got the green light I was going to move into the bathroom and then have this freak out in there. My pulse raced. But that was the problem. It was going to take too long for that greenlight. I felt sick. I was sweating hard.

My body shook and a slight sob was wrenched out of throat. I was having an anxiety attack on the jet, in front of my fucking co-workers. The pilot gave us the ok to move around the cabin. I unbuckled my seat belt and hunched over, my hands on my head, hyperventilating. My body was blocking part of the isle, as I tried not to draw attention to myself. So much for that.

“Benson, what’s happening? Benson?” Hotch spoke, his voice loud and clear over the chatting in the rest of the cabin. I couldn’t reply. My throat felt tight and I was too shook up to think clearly. Everyone else looked up from what they were doing, looking at me freaking out. Hotch rose to his feet, striding towards me quickly. _Great. I’m a fucking spectacle now. There is absolutely no way he is gonna believe nothing is going on._

He knelt next to me. “Benson, are you having an anxiety attack? Just nod, don’t try and use your words.” I nodded my head fiercely, gasping for air. Tears streaked down my face. I was going red with embarrassment. “You want some water? You need anything?” I could see concern and slight suspicion on his face. I nodded. Water or literally anything to make this better somehow. “Reid, get me a bottle of water, will you?” His voice softened, “hey, Reese. You need to calm your breathing. Just take deep breaths. In and out, slow and steady.” I tried forcing myself to slow my breathing down. Reid gave Hotch the water. Hotch opened it, “here, drink this.” I drained the contents of the bottle, my breathing beginning to slow. My heart rate was decreasing.

I looked up at Hotch. He wore a soft expression and spoke softly, “are you alright?”

My voice choked up, still shaken and sick with anxiety, “I-I’m o-okay. T-thanks Hotch.” I was still choked up. Fear clouded my face and I looked around the rest of the cabin. Everyone had a worried expression on their face. God damn it, Reese. GOD FUCKING DAMN IT. I moved to my feet and practically jogged down the cabin hall. “Bathroom,” I choked out quickly.

I locked the door and sat on the floor, sobbing. I wanted to scream. I wanted to scream so badly. Anger coursed through my veins. I was so angry at myself.

“Fuck it,” I muttered, taking my knife out of my pocket. I popped the blade out of its casing, sitting it on the floor. My hands fumbled with my belt buckle, before I got it undone, unbuttoning my jeans and pushing them down slightly. I picked up the knife, slicing quickly and forcefully. The cut stung. It was deeper than my normal cuts. I rushed to slice myself again, before four more cuts joined the first two. I dropped the blade, my head dropping back, smacking the wall. I felt the blood flowing down my thighs, running over my hands and fingers. I felt high, adrenaline flowing through my blood, hormones leaking out of my cuts. My tears streamed down my cheeks, blurring my vision. I wiped my eyes, my crying stopping.

A knock sounded against the door. It was Derek. “You alright in there, kid?” I didn’t want to answer. I stayed silent. “Kid?” Derek asked again, this time more strain in his voice.

“I’m ok, Derek. I just need a minute to collect my damn thoughts without everyone staring at me.” My voice lacked any inflection. It was monotone, void of emotion. My emotions had run dry, and now I was moving into a dissociative state.

“Alright. We are here if you want to talk,” he replied, his voice calm.

I cleaned my blade and stuck it in my pocket. I took a wet paper towel and cleaned out my wounds, then I held a dry paper towel against them, stopping the bleeding. I pulled up my jeans and refastened my belt. I splashed cold water on my face, trying to cool my body heat. I composed myself and unlocked the door, stepping into the small hallway that lead down the main isle of the cabin. My eyes stayed glued to the floor as I took my seat, putting headphones back into my ears. The song “Novocaine” by Fall Out Boy played in my ears. I stared at the file in front of me. This was going to be a shitty day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and suggestions are always appreciated. I'm still building the story out, sorry if it sucks. Again, first time writing. Thanks again!


	3. Hotch's Office

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hotch and Reese have a very serious discussion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Talk about self harm and suicidal ideation.  
> Apologies for any grammatical/spelling errors, they will be fixed. Happy reading!

“Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live.”  
-Norman Cousins

* * *

We got back to Quantico at around 3pm. I grabbed my files and my go bag, not speaking as I rushed off the plane. _I need to get away. I need to get away._

I walked out of the elevator by myself. I hadn’t taken my time getting back into the office. I was clearly panicking and anyone who so much as glanced in my direction could see that. I had ridden alone on the elevator, not wanting to speak to anyone, Fall Out Boy blaring in my ears. I strode to my desk, dropping my files and go bag on top of its somewhat cluttered surface. I wasn’t particularly messy, but I wasn’t really organized like Reid was.

I walked over to the coffee pot, thankful to see some still there. I grabbed a mug and poured the black liquid into it. I took some sugar and mixed it in before taking a drink. I walked back to my desk, collapsing in my chair, staring at the files in front of me. I moved my bag to the floor and resumed writing my reports.

The rest of the team walked out of the elevator, laughing and talking with each other about god knows what. Hotch walked to my desk, opening his mouth to speak. “I’ll talk to you in a few minutes Hotch, right now I need to finish these reports,” I said, my words were clipped, and my tone was tense. I was under too much stress right now. I could see him nod before continuing his brief walk to his office. The song “Just One Yesterday” began to play. How accurate. I wanted to relive this case to stop this fucked up fiasco from happening.

Reid walked to his desk, glancing at me he asked, “Are you ok Reese? You seem… really frustrated right now and I just want to know your ok, especially after what happened on the jet.”

I didn’t look up from my work, “I’m fucking fine. Please stop asking me that.” Reid flinched from my tone of voice and projection. My words had come out louder than I wanted. I cleared my throat and kept writing, focused on the work on my desk. Unfortunately, I had got sucked into my work, I had forgotten to stop and talk with Hotch.

“Benson,” Hotch spoke loudly, “please come see me in my office, bring that report if it’s finished.”

I cursed under my breath, not wanting to deal with all this shit right now. I got up too quickly and banged my knee into my desk, “ **SON OF A--"** Everyone looked up.

Morgan chuckled, “there’s a desk there, you know?” I wasn’t in the fucking mood for this. I just kept moving. I snatched the file off of my desk and began walking up the small set of stairs to Hotch’s office.

  
I knocked on the door. “Come in.” I turned the door handle, not ready for the conversation about to take place. I was exhausted. I was so, so tired. “Close the door.” I closed the door, slamming it somewhat loudly. If it wasn’t clear I was somewhat pissed, it was about to be. The hairs on my neck stood up.

_I’m scared. I am fucking terrified. God, I’m such a little bitch. And because of that I’m about to lose my damn job. Damn it, Reese._

Hotch looked up, expressionless. It quickly turned into frustration. I was about to get it, wasn’t I? I sauntered over to his desk, dropping the report and file on top of it, “here’s the report you asked for.” I sat down in the chair across from him and his desk. I put my walls up and made my face impassive for the most part. I forced myself to appear calm, hiding all real emotions.

“I believe you know why I asked you to speak with me?” Hotch said. It was a rhetorical question, but I answered anyways. I was going to try and get out of this terrible situation, whether it meant lying and acting or not. My voice was calm, confident. I was back in control of myself.

“I do not sir, no.”

“Oh? Did you miss where you had blood on your hands and then when I told you to speak to me in my office you had an anxiety attack? Or was that just me and the rest of the team?” Hotch seemed slightly angry. This was not what I expected but I had no problem reciprocating the behavior and frustrated inflection in his voice.

“Was it just me, or did I tell you I was all bloody because I was being a drunk idiot? I already fucking told you that, sir.” Rage seeped out of my voice, my eyes trained on his face, staring daggers at him. I don’t think he expected that much rage out of me. Too many years of built up emotion was coming out, and I had a feeling it was going to be ugly.

“Excuse me?” His voice was cold as ice. I swallowed. If I wasn’t going to get it, I was going to now. This had quickly turned from me being angry to me being scared shitless. He stared at me; his glare intense. I looked at my feet, nervousness encompassing me. My assertiveness had broken down quicker than I thought it would. I wasn’t an alpha male, not like Hotch, but I wasn’t one to be intimidated either, but now that was all out the damn window. “Benson, look at me, now” Hotch said, his voice low, “I don’t need the disrespect. I’m not mad about what happened, but I will not take the attitude, you understand?”

I looked at him, “y-yes sir.”

“Now, what is going on with you? And don’t tell me what you keep telling me, this is much more than that. You carry that knife religiously,” I ran my hand over the casing of my knife as he spoke, “there is clearly something happening in your life. You’re on edge constantly. I know what hypervigilance looks like, and you are constantly looking over your shoulder, paranoid. You are going to tell me what’s happening with you, and you are going to do that know, understand?” His voice confident within his dominance. Hotch was the alpha in this room, and we both knew that.

I nodded my understanding, inhaling deeply. I wanted to make excuses, but at this point Hotch wouldn’t believe me. I wouldn’t be able to make the lie believable. I sat in silence for a minute, gathering my thoughts, trying to find what words were correct in this situation. Finally, the words fell out. “I’ve been um... under a lot of stress r-recently, sir.”

He looked at me expectantly, “And?”

I stared at my feet, fidgeting with my hands. “And when y-you… when you gave me back my ID in Denver, you caught me in the middle of… in the middle of me cutting myself.” I choked the words out. I began shaking. He sat there for a few seconds, deciding what to say, but I spoke again before he could, “and then when you confronted me about it like you did on the plane, I freaked out. I just… I panicked and then I…” My voice trailed off. _No tears. No tears. You cannot cry in front of your boss._ “Sir, if you plan on firing me, please just say so, I don’t want to go through a long conversation just to lose my job” I explained, voice breaking.

“Why would I fire you, Benson?” Hotch was confused, in disbelief at the fact that I suggested that he might fire me.

“Y-you weren’t planning on firing me?” We exchanged confused looks, “sir, I have been fucking up for a few weeks now. We both know you will report this and now I’m going to lose my job.” I let out an exhalation.

Hotch spoke, his voice soft, but firm, “Benson, I am not going to fire you, but we are going to talk about this. I need to know one of my agents isn’t going to kill themselves or do something stupid that they will regret.”

 _This is terrible. I don’t want to be here. I just want to disappear. I need to get out of here. I need out._ Hotch continued when I didn’t speak up, “Reese, you need to tell me that you aren’t planning suicide, right now.” I thought a moment. I wasn’t planning on it before, but god I wish I was. I wanted out of this. All of it.

Finally, I confirmed the statement he wanted to hear, “I’m not planning anything, Hotch. I’m not suicidal.” I quieted. Waiting for him to continue this conversation. I didn’t have it in me to take control over this shitshow anymore. I just waited, exhausted and broken. _Fuck, I’m so broken._

I felt ashamed. So ashamed. And so unbelievably embarrassed. “Reese, I want you to take a few days off. Get your head together. I also want you to give me that knife in your pocket, you won’t be needing it because you won’t be using it, understand?” I nodded and he continued, “Do whatever you need to relax. I don’t care, but you will not be working for the next few days. I’ll be checking in with you every few hours. Tell me you understand, give me the knife, and go home.” I stood, frozen to the spot. I hesitated before pulling the knife out of my pocket and thrusting it into Hotch’s hand.

“I’m going to want that back, you know. It was a gift.” I said, quiet. I was ready to be home. Ready to get away from all the alpha males in my life and be alone.

Hotch nodded his understanding. “I’ll tell you what day you need to come back to the office, and we will be having another conversation. Now go home, you look exhausted.”

“Yes sir.”

I opened Hotch’s door and exited quickly, trying to keep what little composure I had left. “You ok there?” I looked over at Emily, who was talking with Derek when I came out of Hotch’s office. They were trying to figure out what Hotch wanted from me, why we were talking. “You didn’t get suspended, did you?” Prentiss asked, confused.

“No. I just… I just needed some time off, that’s all.” I sat down in my office chair, debating whether I should take some files to finish reports on or not. I didn’t think Hotch would be too mad if I did. I grabbed a few, putting them in my go bag before zipping it up. I opened my desk drawer and grabbed my car keys. “I’m going home for the day.” I walked out and stood in the elevator before anyone could respond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, kind stranger. The BAU is gay as fuck, even Hotch, and no one will tell me otherwise. This is going to get gay soon if you can't tell. Feel free to comment and leave suggestions. Sorry if this is shit, but I've never wrote fanfic before, bare with me.


	4. Homebody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Staying at home, relaxing isn't as easy as Reese thought it would be. Some demons return to haunt him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this chapter is somewhat long.  
> TW: Self harm. Blood. The norm for this fic. 
> 
> It's still October first as I write this, so just know I wrote and posted 4 chapters in one day. I hope you enjoy and as always, happy reading, kind stranger.

“You cannot escape the responsibility of tomorrow by evading it today”  
-Abraham Lincoln

* * *

I walked to my car in the FBI Academy parking lot. A black Audi A5. She was a beautiful car. I hit the unlock button on my keys and opened the back door. I threw my go bag in the back floorboard, shutting the door and climbing in the driver’s seat. I started the car and began the 15-minute drive to my apartment complex. I stopped by the local liquor store, picking up a decent whiskey to drink while I ate and relaxed on my couch. Knowing me, I would probably end up at my desk working on reports. I had taken about 6-7 files from my desk. Worst comes to worst, I return to work early and drop them off if I finish them.

I arrived at my building, parking in the underground parking garage and stepping out of my car. I took the elevator up to my floor, floor 9, and walked to my door. Apartment 907. I unlocked the door, hitting the light switch and toeing off my shoes. I walked into my apartment. The walls were a dark gray, with windows on the back wall. Posters and different pieces of art hung on my walls, bookshelves lining the right wall by the hallway that led to my bathroom and bedroom. I dropped the liquor bottle in my fridge and picked up a small list of addresses and phone numbers to various restaurants near my complex.

I ordered a pizza before walking down the short hallway to my bedroom. I threw my go bag on the bed, walking to my closet. I changed into sweats and a t-shirt. I opened my go bag, taking out the files and walking back into my living room, dropping them on my desk. I knew I was going to work, but not tonight. I needed to relax and unwind tonight.

10 minutes later the pizza guy was at my door handing me my food. I paid and gave him a generous 20-dollar tip, before shutting the door to enjoy my pizza and watch a movie. I decided on the first Harry Potter movie, I wouldn’t have to pay very much attention to it because I had seen it so many times. Halfway through the movie I got up, striding towards the fridge. I opened that bottle of whiskey and poured myself a glass. I took a sip and sat back down on my couch, placing my tumbler on a coaster on the coffee table. I sat there for hours watching tv and just decompressing. I looked down at my phone to check the time. _10:30. Time for some much-needed sleep._

I cleaned my dishes and finished my drink, putting both the plate and the tumbler in my dish washer. I walked into my bathroom and brushed my teeth. I walked into my bedroom and slipped off my sweats and t-shirt, leaving myself in my boxers. I put my phone on the charger and turned on the overhead fan; turning off the lights I slipped into bed, slipping quickly into unconsciousness.

I awoke to my usual alarm. I hit the off button and turned over, going back to bed. An hour and a half later, I awoke to my phone ringing. I looked at the caller ID to see Hotch’s name on screen. Hitting the accept button, I sat up and answered, “Benson.”

“Good morning Benson, how are you this morning?”

I yawned before responding, “I am tired and as soon as you hang up, I’m going back to bed, sir.”

He chuckled, “that’s good, Reese. I have something to ask you though.”

I sat there silent for a second, confused before replying, “what is it?”

“Did you take some files home?” A shocked expression went across my face and I quickly scrambled for words.

“Uhhh… it depends.”

“Depends on what?” Hotch asked, slight amusement running through his voice.

“Depends on what you’re going to say if I did,” I said, not in the mood to get chastised over the damn phone at 8am.

“I thought I told you no work, or do you simply enjoy lying to your superiors?”

I let out a small gasp, surprised at the teasing tone he was using. “Who are you and what have you done with my damn boss?” was what left my mouth, although my eyes widened after I said it. He laughed. HE. LAUGHED.

“Your boss is very much speaking to you, don’t worry,” he said, still laughing.

“Well, yes, I did take some files, but they are only reports. I just wanted to do something productive for a little while today. I enjoy working for my paycheck. Surprising, right?”

Hotch laughed again. “Not really, you don’t strike me as the lazy type. Your work has been phenomenal thus far.”

I took a second to absorb the complement. “Okay, seriously, where the hell is my boss?” I chuckled when a heard a fake groan from the other side of the line.

“You return to work in three days. I will check in with you frequently and you will need to speak with me when you return to work, understand?”

“Yes sir, will do.” I hung up.

* * *

I sat at my desk, reviewing the report I had just finished. I had already completed 4 of them in two hours. I sipped my coffee, sighing. _I need to hit the gym, blow some of this excess energy_. I waltzed into my room, throwing on gym clothes and grabbing my water bottle from my cabinets. I filled it but before I could exit the apartment my phone rang. It was Hotch again.

“Benson.” I was expecting to get called in for another case, but I was surprised.

“Finished those reports yet?” My boss was just checking up again, making sure I was surviving this forced vacation.

I chuckled, “I have four of six completed. That number meet your expectations?”

Hotch sighed, “I told you no working, Benson.”

“And I ignored it, boss man. It’s not my fault you made it sound optional,” I shot back at him, teasing.

“Oh yeah?” I was enjoying messing with Hotch. I think it was because I wasn’t at the office where he could get to me.

“Yup. I know you let Reid slide because he is your favorite, but I think you should let this slide,” amusement clear in my voice.

“I do not have a favorite,” Hotch said, faking shock.

“Of course, you don’t boss,” I was laughing quietly, “I’m about to hit the gym, so I’m all good Hotch. Let me know if a case pops up.”

Hotch sighed again, “alright. Talk to you later Benson.” He hung up.

* * *

I had returned from my workout starving and in need of a shower. I decided on the shower first. I washed quickly, but my mind got stuck when my fingers ran over the cuts in my thigh. Need sparked in me yet again. _No. No, I’m going to stay clean. I’m going to stay clean and I’m going to keep my promise to Hotch._ I turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. I dried myself off and went to put on some clean clothes. I threw on some jeans and a clean Henley and socks, my dirty clothes in my mesh laundry basket.

I entered the kitchen, fixing myself a sandwich and drinking a bottle of water. I returned to my desk to finish the last two reports. _Wow. I need to head to the office and grab more files_. Then I can give these to Hotch while I’m there. I began writing, getting to work to go to the office and drop them off. I glanced at the time on my phone. _2:27._ Great. I threw on my work boots and grabbed my gun and holster, badge, and ID card. I grabbed my keys, exiting my apartment and getting in the elevator. I got in my car and completed the brief commute to the office.

I exited the elevator into the bullpen, Reid stopped in his tracks and then spoke, “Hey! I thought you weren’t coming in today?”

I looked at him and held up the files, “I came to drop these off and pick up some more.” Reid gave me weird look, prompting me too give him a look of confusion, “What?”

Reid smiled, stifling a laugh, and simply said, “Look at your desk.”

I walked over to my desk to find literally every file missing from it. My mouth fell open and I heard Morgan and Prentiss laughing with Reid at my expression. I stuttered, confused and shocked that all my work was missing, then a lightbulb went off in my brain. _Hotch._ I walked up the stairs knocking on the door lightly as I cracked it open to see if I could enter. He looked up, surprised to see me before gesturing for me to enter the threshold of the door.

“Why are all my--"

  
Hotch cut me off before I could finish my sentence, “why are all the case files from your desk missing?” A smirk played on his lips.

“Yes. Why is _MY_ work missing from _MY_ workspace?” I said in pure bewilderment.

“I knew you would come by to drop off these files as an excuse to keep working, even though I ordered you to stop working for three days. I thought you needed a reminder of who’s in charge here,” he said simply. He let out a small laugh when he saw the astonished look on my face.

I stood there in utter shock for a moment before saying, “fuck you, Hotchner,” my voice sarcastic.

He picked up on the blatant sarcasm, “it’s not my fault you went against my orders. Maybe you won’t next time,” he shot back at me.

He was _teasing me. Aaron Hotchner was teasing me._ “Please tell me you didn’t give them to the rest of the team,” I said incredulously.

He grinned before responding, “no, they’re sitting a file box right here. I’m not that cruel.”

“It sure seems like it,” I mumbled.

  
“What was that?”

  
“Nothing,” I replied, a small twinge of panic in my voice. I strode to his desk giving him my reports. “Hotch, just give me a few more files. I feel guilty for getting days off for no reason and not working at all.”

Hotch looked up from his paperwork, a stern look on his face, “We both know why you got days off, and it isn’t ‘for no reason.’ As funny as I find this, if I find out you disobeyed a direct order, I will not find it as funny and you and I will have a long chat, you understand me?” My gaze shot down to my feet. I felt like a teenager getting scolded by his dad for breaking the rules.

“Yes sir.”

Hotch continued his paperwork, “good, now get out of the office. I don’t want to see you back here until Thursday morning, you hear?”

I gave him a shy smile, “yes sir.”

I stepped out of his office before sitting at my desk, turning to talk to my friends. _I’m on vacation time, that means they aren’t co-workers right now, they are just friends_. I turned to Derek and Emily, “so how’s it going without me being here for you two asshats to pick on?”

Reid groaned and replied before either of the other two could, “please come back, they are annoying me now.”

I smirked, “sucks to suck there genius.”

Derek grinned and replied, “it’s been alright, but we are ready to have you here to pick on again. Next time we go drinking I’m gonna show you up there, twig.” That was a random nickname Derek called me, after getting tackled out of no where by an unsub and having Derek pull him off of me.

“Is that so?” I interjected, “because last time I was miles ahead of you. And who are you calling twig? I could beat your ass in hand-to-hand.” I was challenging Derek and when it came to hand-to-hand, well, that wasn’t the best idea.

“Bring it, kid. This time I will literally beat your ass.” All four of us continued our banter before Hotch exited his office and saw me in the bullpen.

“Benson.” I jumped, not expecting Hotch to come out and notice me sitting there. “Didn’t I tell you to go home? Why are you still here?”

I looked at Derek and then turned to look at Hotch, “I was just challenging Derek to a little hand-to-hand before I left, that’s all,” I said, scared he was going to reprimand me for enjoying banter with my friends.

Hotch’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, “ _you_ challenged _him_?” he said pointing to Derek.

I grinned and replied in full confidence, “I sure did, boss. Who you betting on?”

Hotch rolled his eyes, sighing, “well, I’m not betting on you,” he said.

All of us laughed and I stood, “alright, alright, I’ve gotta get back home and do nothing because our boss here won’t let me work,” I groaned, rolling my eyes. I said my goodbyes and then exited the office, the happiest I had been in a long time.

* * *

  
I woke with a start, sweat dripping down my face. I could feel my pulse racing as I shot up in bed, breath heaving. My legs were tangled in the burgundy colored sheets at the end of my bed, my back resting against the mahogany headboard. My hair clung to my temples, the hairs on my neck standing up. I felt bile rising in my throat, burning my stomach. I felt sick to the core. I glanced at my phone on the nightstand, checking the time. _4:49am_. I cursed under my breath; the night terror burned into my memory. I remembered the past trauma and with the mix of newer stress under my job, I felt sick. I wanted the ground to open and swallow me whole. I wanted to jump into the ocean and float freely under the water, free from the heavy weight of gravity. My father’s voice rung clearly in my ears and the pain of his belt against my back and ass.

I moved out of my bed, standing on shaky legs, my entire body covered in sweat. I walked into the kitchen, opening a bottle of water and draining half of it in one go. I carried the water back into my bedroom, setting it down on the nightstand beside my phone and keys. I stripped the bed quickly, throwing the sheets into my laundry basket and opened the closet door, retrieving a fresh set of sheets. These were a royal purple color and they were clean. I pulled the sheets onto the bed and walked over to my dresser, pulling open one of the drawers and taking a fresh pair of boxers. I walked into the bathroom, turning on the cold spray and stepped inside, letting the water try and wash away the pain and fear from my night terror.

I dried myself off, leaving the sweat covered boxers on the floor while I brushed my teeth. The taste of bile had lingered there, unwanted and unwelcome. I moved to my living room, throwing my body down on the floor in between the couch and the coffee table, crying softly. I curled up into a ball, too wound up to care. I cried for what seemed like forever, until I couldn’t cry anymore. I looked at the cabinet my tv sat atop and thought for a few minutes, before uncurling my body and getting up. I moved to the cabinet, squatting to open the lower cabinets. Inside sat a small box. I took it out, moving back to sit on the edge of the coffee table. I opened the lid, staring at the contents. A small medal, a nameplate, a few letters, an old college ID, and another swiss army knife. I took out the medal, knife and nameplate, setting the knife down beside me, I held other two objects. I ran my fingers over the engraved name, whispering softly, “Daniels.” I sat the medal and nameplate back in the box, placing the box where it originally sat in the cabinet.

I returned to the coffee table and sat back down, a shiver working its way down my spine. I picked up the knife and removed it from the casing. Unlike my knife, this one was encased in a red plastic that was more scratched up than mine. I felt guilty for what I was about to do, Hotch’s words and face in my mind. But in the end that didn’t outweigh my need to release the pent-up hormones, racing through my bloodstream. I was more prepared at my home though. I had a first aid kit here.

I sliced my left thigh four times, groaning when I felt the slight sting. “God damn,” I seethed, gritting my teeth as the feeling of chemical release raced through my overstressed system. _I fucking **NEEDED** this._ I put the blade back in the plastic, euphoria and pleasure still faint in my body. I knew a long time ago I was a masochist, but this was a different feeling. It was… more intense and more desirable. I sat there for a few more minutes, enjoying the high.

I heard my alarm ringing loud and clear down the hall in my bedroom and I knew I needed to get moving. I was going back to work this morning. I moved automatically, my brain functioning on autopilot. I had already cleaned and treated the cuts, now I just had to throw on clothes and get coffee.

I stared at all the garments in my closet, my brain too overloaded to think properly. I chose a pinstriped suit. I wore more upscale clothing to the office but always wore more casual clothes in the field. I stripped naked, putting on some briefs and my socks, then I stepped into my perfectly tailored slacks. I took my dress shirt off the hanger, shrugging into it. I choose a crimson dress shirt. Bold. Elegant. I tucked it into my slacks and slid my belt through the belt loops, fastening it around my waist. I chose a simple black tie. I folded my collar up, tying the tie around my neck and then folded the collar down around it. I put on my black dress shoes and holstered my gun. I slipped my badge into my inside jacket pocket and attached the ID card to the front pocket. I grabbed my phone, keys, and wallet, deciding to get coffee at the office rather than stop on the way.

I grabbed my go bag and took one last look at the apartment before turning off the lights and stepping out, preparing for the eventful day of playing catch-up back at the office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to leave comments and suggestions. I appreciate feedback because then I know how to reform and become a better writer. Hope y'all enjoyed :)
> 
> Also, quick explanation about the difference between nightmares and night terrors:  
> Nightmares occur during the REM phase of the sleep cycle and can be remembered (more easily).  
> Night terrors happen outside of REM sleep and are often more vivid and intense and aren't as easy to remember.


	5. Back in the Bullpen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new case sparks new frustration in Reese's life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if the cases suck or if the details aren't accurate. I'm not putting very much thought into them, as they aren't the focus of my story. This is where the story is going to take more of a turn. 
> 
> Sorry for any of the grammatical/spelling mistakes, they will get fixed when I do my second and third proof reads and reformatting. 
> 
> Thanks again, and happy reading! :)

“No man steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man”  
-Heraclitus

* * *

I rode to work in the usual traffic in silence, regaining all the stability I had gained over the last few days after my night terror. I pulled in my usual parking spot, turning the Audi off and sitting for a minute. I felt a small twinge of guilt knowing I was about to walk into work and lie to my boss. _What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him, right?_

My face was resting before twisting into a smile as I exited the elevator into the office, walking through the clear doors into the bullpen. I looked at my desk, happy to see that all my files were on my desk. They were organized. _Reid must have done that._ I slid my go bag under my desk, back in the corner where I would step on it. I got up to make myself a cup of burnt coffee.

“Welcome back, kid.”

I turned to Morgan, smiling before replying, “Morning, Derek.” I returned to the mug in front of me, stirring in some sugar to try and mask the burnt taste. I took a swig as I strode to my desk, taking a seat and booting up my computer. I needed to do a little bit of work before I was ready to speak and blatantly lie to my boss about how much better I felt after three days off. I settled in, working diligently.

I stood, stretching 15 minutes later, finally ready to talk to Hotch. I took a last swig of my coffee before walking up the stairs, interrupted by Hotch and JJ walking out it. “What’s going on?” I asked, knowing that we probably had a new case. _Any excuse to get out of this meeting with Hotch._ JJ spoke, walking towards the round table room, “New case, can you gather the team?”

I walked back down the stairs, glancing back at JJ, “yeah, I’ll get them.” Hotch was knocking on Rossi’s door as went to tell the others about the new case.

5 minutes later I was sitting at the round table, Reid and Emily on either side of me, Garcia across from me, laying out the case file. “Today,” Garcia said, her words fast, “we are needed in Knoxville, Tennessee.” She clicked the remote in her hand, images of the victims popping on to the screen, “someone is snatching women, torturing them, and then… this.”

I looked at the pictures in front of me, “he’s burying them?” I stared, my gaze focused and calculated.

Garcia winced a little, “alive. He is burying them alive.”

Garcia started going on about the victims, “Maria Felton, 34. Jane Ramirez, 30. Abby McFarlin, 29. And, Jackie Stanton, 36. All four of them are middle class, college graduates.” I looked at the DMV photos, making small physical connections. They were brunettes, brown eyes, pale in color, and skinny.

“Knoxville is in need of our help, wheels up in 20,” Hotch said, tone serious. I went to stand and exit, needing my go bag, but Hotch stopped me, “we still need to talk, but we’ll do it once this case is over unless I feel the need to have it earlier.” I nodded before hurrying out of the room. I retrieved my go bag, opting to ride with Emily and Rossi in the elevator and in the SUV to the airstrip.

* * *

  
I walked onto the jet, taking a seat next to on of the windows. JJ and Reid sat across from me, Hotch next to me. Derek stood, leaning on the other table meant to accompany 4 more people. Emily and Rossi sitting in the chair and couch next to him. Garcia winked onto the screen beside me. “What do we know about victimology, Garcia?” Hotch asked, his tone serious and monotone.

Garcia began speaking, detailing what she could about the victims, “From what I can see, there isn’t anything suspicious, unless you count a few parking tickets. They all went to different colleges; they are in different fields of work. Nothing obvious connects them.”

“What is the population and demographics of Knoxville?” Hotch asked, looking at Reid expectantly.

I spoke, beating Reid to the stats, “Knoxville is home to 187,603 residents, 75.25% white, 17.55% African American and 2.99% of other ethnicities. The household income is a median of 33,494 dollars or 23,177 dollars for singular income.” Everyone stared, shocked. Even Reid looked a little surprised.

Derek spoke first, “why do you know that, kid?”

I swallowed, a little uncomfortable, “I uh… I grew up there.” My gaze shot back down at the file in my lap. Memories surged into my conscious, childhood trauma and the sick feeling from my night terror returning.

“You never told us that.” Derek commented simply.

I scowled, “What am I supposed to tell you people everything about my private life now?” I surprised myself, “I… I am so sorry. I’ll stop talking now.” Hotch looked at me for a moment before the rest of the team went back to talking about the case. _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I fucked up. I fucked up_. I stayed silent until we arrived in Knoxville.

* * *

I stepped into the cool office of the Knox county police department, praying that no one here knew me. My past trauma wasn’t something I wanted projected to the rest of my team, especially after my small outburst on the plane. Hotch, Morgan, and Rossi were leading the way in front of me, JJ, Reid, and Emily behind me. Hotch approached the sheriff, stretching out his arm for a handshake.

“Sheriff, I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner, these are agents Morgan, Rossi, Benson, Jareau, Prentiss, and Doctor Spencer Reid. Do you have a place we could set up?” I looked at the sheriff, cursing internally. _The one and only, Sheriff Al motherfucking Porter._

“Yeah, you can set in the conference room, first room on the left down the hall…” he paused, taking a good look at me, “Reese Jacob Benson, is that you?” he asked, questioning whether it was truly me. He was an older man, probably in his mid-60s, about my height, and heavier set. He had white hair that was thinning, and his eyes were a light brown color.

I cleared my throat, answering, “Yes sir, it is. How’ve you been, Mr. Porter?”

He smiled, seemingly happy to see me although I doubted it was genuine. “I’ve been well. How’s your daddy?” He drawled, a deep southern accent from his genealogical roots.

I looked at him, my face dead set and serious, “I wouldn’t know. I hope the bastards dead somewhere.” I began striding to the conference room, needing to escape into my work _. I need to focus on the case. Don’t let your emotions get in the way of this job._

Reid and Morgan were already pinning up evidence and brainstorming, a map being placed on the evidence board. “What do we have?” I asked, needing to kick back into work mode.

Morgan pursed his lips, “not much. Reid is starting on the geological profile.” The door to the conference room opened, Hotch, Prentiss, JJ, and Rossi stepping inside to start on the case. Hotch stood beside me, looking at the evidence board.

“Reid, Rossi, I want you two to go to the coroner’s office and see what they have to say. Prentiss, Morgan, I want you to go to the last burial site. JJ, Benson, and I will talk to the victim’s families and see what they have to say,” Hotch announced. The others began moving to get a start on their task.

JJ left the room, most likely to get the families called down to the police station to speak with us. I stood awkwardly next to Hotch, his eyes searching my face, looking for something. Anything. After a moment he finally spoke, “What was that with the sheriff back there?” He was beginning his interrogation and I didn’t know if I had it in me to get through it. I decided very quickly that I did NOT want to do this here and now.

“Do we have to talk about this now?” I snapped.

Hotch scowled, “Yes. We are going to talk about this right now. Now what was that about?” His voice dripped with cold authority, but I wasn’t going to give in as easily this time.

“No. I’m not doing this right now,” my tone defiant.

Hotch looked at me, slight shock slipping across his face before settling back into a glare, “excuse me?” I still wasn’t having it. _I don’t care boss, I am not doing this right now. No way._ His shoulders straightened and he took a step towards me, my body automatically stepping back. _Damn it Reese. You need to be confident, especially when you are defying Hotch’s orders._ I swallowed, my throat tightening slightly as fear spread in my gut.

“Hotch, every time someone else doesn’t want to talk about their demons and personal lives, you accept it. Why can’t you just leave this the fuck alone? It doesn’t fucking involve you and it never will, damn it.” I was angry now. My frustration and left-over feelings boiling over.

I looked at him dead in the eye, defying his authority to the very fucking end. I had made my decision. I wasn’t going to let him push me around about things that were none of his damned business. Hotch recoiled at my vehemence, stepping forward again, his gaze still sharp on my face. I watched his eyes darken, his voice becoming cold and stern as he spoke, “that’s because they haven’t had the audacity to defy the simplest of commands constantly. They haven’t cut themselves open in the middle of working or on the jet flying home. They didn’t work when I told them to take personal time or show up at the office dropping off work they weren’t supposed to be doing. And none of them,” he took another step forward, making me step back, my back colliding with a small bookcase, “ever went home and continued the habit I was trying to help them break.”

I stood in front of Hotch, feeling trapped. I shrunk under his piercing eyes, cold calculation swimming in them. I opened my mouth, stuttering I asked, “h-how…” my voice trailing off. I could barely look at him from where my gaze was stuck, seemingly glued to the floor.

“How did I know you went home and cut yourself? It was obvious. You had it written all over you,” he practically snarled the words at me. I could feel a little bit of sweat on my forehead. If I wasn’t nervous earlier, I definitely was now. I had done the one thing Hotch never tolerates: lying. I felt guilt run through my brain, painting itself on to my expression. Whatever confident defiance I had, had dissipated, leaving me with a very pissed off Aaron Hotchner.

I was still frozen, my back pressed against the back of the bookcase, scared I was about to get suspended or fired. I had no idea how I was going to manage to fix this mess. _9 years later and the bastard is still fucking up my life_. Hotch was still staring daggers into me. My eyes immediately moved back down to the ground, indicating my break in defiance. Hotch had all the control in this situation now, I couldn’t even look at the man. I was breathing hard, my body shaking slightly. Hotch did something quite unexpected. He smirked. The man fucking _smirked_.

“Are you going to tell me what I want to know now, or do I still need to break your defiance?” His voice was dripping with new amusement. He was finding this _amusing_.

A small spark of defiance run back through me at that, causing me to change my original response, “you’re a profiler, figure it out.”

He let out a small laugh and brought my gaze to meet his eyes, finding them to still be darkened. “Wrong choice,” he said darkly.

_What the fuck does that mean?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave suggestions or comments, they are appreciated so I can improve my writing. Thanks for reading, kind stranger :)


	6. Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reese's past comes back to haunt him. Unrelieved tension comes back to the surface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys are enjoying this story so far. I've been writing and planning and reforming almost everyday now, trying to give everyone the best reading experience. 
> 
> Happy reading, kind stranger.

“There is no respect for others without humility in one’s self.”  
-Henri Frederic Amiel

* * *

The interviews with the victims were standard. We got the standard information. Nothing was clicking in my mind, but that was mostly because of what had happened about an hour ago with Hotch. I hadn’t been as focused during the interviews, letting JJ and Hotch take the lead, speaking only when necessary. My mind was reeling, confused by what he meant by “wrong choice.” _What the absolute hell is he talking about?_ I was lost, deep in my thoughts before a hand on my shoulder shook me.

“What are you thinking about there, kid?” It was Morgan. He was grinning like an idiot. I looked up, dazed for a moment before sliding into my impassivity automatically.

“Just thinking about the victimology and the way of killing, that’s all,” I said casually. I didn’t think I would ever get used to that. Other people would be confused at the conversation my co-workers and I found to be normal and casual. _Normal. Is there really such a thing? I don’t think there really is._

We continued on the case for hours, bouncing theories off of each other, asking questions, trying to make connections; looking at every shred of evidence, searching for any sign of anything that could give us a lead. I took my phone out of my pocket, reading the time on the screen, _3:47am. Great. I am exhausted. I need sleep._ I forced myself to continue, trying to focus on my job. “Why burying them alive? Why not use a ligature? The 6 feet of dirt suggests he wants to distance himself from the body,” Rossi said, trying to pull some sort of lead together. We were somewhat stumped. I hadn’t seen many cases where the victim was buried _alive._

“I don’t think we are going to get very far tonight. I know I’m not,” I threw out. It was true.

“I agree with Benson. We should all head back to the hotel and get some sleep and hit this hard in the morning with fresh eyes,” Hotch said. Everyone began gathering their things, ready to head to the hotel. We walked out of the PD’s doors, getting into the SUVs. I got in the driver’s seat of the second SUV, Reid, JJ, and Emily joining me. I drove us all to the hotel, not getting out when we arrived.

“You coming?” Emily asked, puzzled as to why I was still in the driver’s seat.

“No, I need to get some things first,” was my reply. I needed a drink and I knew just where to go.

* * *

The bar was pretty quiet when I entered. I sauntered to the bar, slipping on a bar stool, taking an earbud out my ear. I motioned for the bartender, ordering a jack and coke. Something simple. A few people were playing pool, the TV behind the bar playing ESPN. I got my drink quick enough and took a tentative sip, sighing as I sat the cool tumbler on the counter. I was tired. And so damn confused.

I began playing the conference room fiasco back in head, walking through it step by step, like it was a cognitive interview. I wanted to know about what Hotch was planning. What he meant. _What can you remember? What stuck out?_ I sat there thinking. I had already drained my drink. I ordered another drink, this time a Long Island Iced Tea. I needed something else. I took out my phone, recording notes, trying to profile Hotch. I sat there for a little over an hour, drinking. I finally stood, stumbling slightly as I slipped off the barstool to go take a much-needed piss.

When I had returned from the grimy bar bathroom, I found a concerned and annoyed Aaron Hotchner sitting next to my barstool. _Should I even go over there? I haven’t paid my tab yet, but god I don’t want to deal with this, especially shitfaced._ I sauntered back to the bar, leaning into it, “hi Hotch,” my speech slurring. My eyelids felt heavy and I smelled like alcohol. “Hi. Are you drunk?” I ignored the question, launching into questions of my own, “why are you here? How did you even know I was here?”

His eyebrows raised, silently asking why I was asking such a stupid question. “I had Garcia track your phone and tell me where to find you because when I knocked on your door you didn’t answer. Emily told me you hadn’t checked into your room.” I laughed, finding that funny in my delirious, drunk state.

I looked him in the face before asking another question, “are you mad at me?”

He looked at me, a little confused it seemed, “mad at you for what?” I shot him an equally confused look. _That sentence needed explanation?_

I slurred my speech again,” yeah mad. Are you mad at me… for anything at all?” I tried gaging his mood, even when plastered.

He gave me a sly smile, “no Reese, I am not mad at you, although I am slightly upset you came to drink instead of talking to me. If you wanted answers about earlier, why didn’t you just ask?”

My jaw dropped open a little bit and he chuckled a little. I gave him a small glare, “I would ask how you knew that’s what I’ve been drinking over, but I’m too drunk to care and even then, I already know better.”

He gave me another small smile, “At least your learning something.”

I chuckled, finding that funny in my drunkenness, “you can be an ass sometimes, boss.”

“I think you’re the one being the ass right now,” Hotch replied, relaxed. I gave him a bittersweet smile, finding it interesting how I could fuck up all the damn time and he was still tolerating my adolescent behavior. I gulped down the rest of my drink, needing the courage. “So, um… why… what was…” my voice trailed off. I didn’t really know what to ask or how to ask it. Being drunk certainly didn’t help either of us.

We were interrupted by the bartender, but before I could order another drink Hotch spoke up, “two waters please.” He returned his focus back to me.

“I could have done that, you know?” I told him, matter-of-factly.

He grinned, “It looks to me like you weren’t planning on that, considering how drunk you are.” I blushed at that comment, not knowing how to react. Hotch looked at me, still grinning. My face went to the floor, slightly embarrassed. He stifled a laugh, “Are you nervous, Reese? What happened to the confident kid challenging my authority a few hours ago?” I looked up at him, wide eyed, my face going redder than I thought it could. That made him laugh out loud this time. The bartender sat two glasses of ice water in front of us. I picked mine up, taking a few sips. My brain stuttered at what Hotch had just said to me. _What the fuck am I supposed to say to that?_ I started stuttering, trying to make up an excuse but Hotch cut me off, “I’m just messing with you. I was going to talk to you about that at the hotel, but you are too drunk to talk about anything serious right now.”

I looked at him tentatively, “are you sure? I can sober up and then we can talk at the hotel?”

Hotch eyed me over the lip of his glass, setting down as he responded, “yes, I’m sure. We can talk about this tomorrow night or whenever a good occasion arises. For now, we need to get back to the hotel and get you sobered up anyway.”

I smirked, “how do you plan on accomplishing that? I drove here and then we’ll have a government issued SUV sitting in the bar parking lot.”

“I took an Uber, actually. So, yes, I will be driving both of us back,” he said in a triumphant tone.

I looked at him, impressed. “Good job boss. You actually had a good plan to deal with me this time. Next time I won’t make it so easy,” I told him, winking at him. He smiled before responding, “let’s get back, we have a long day tomorrow.” I motioned for the bartender, needing to pay my tab.

“I already paid it,” Hotch said, continuing to move.

I stopped, glancing at him, “why did you do that?”

“Do what? Pay your tab? Because I wanted you to stop drinking and get you out of this bar as fast as possible,” Hotch said, nonchalantly. I nodded, moving off the barstool and grabbing my jacket, throwing it over my shoulder, “shall we?”

* * *

I jackknifed up in the bed, sweat dripping from my forehead, breathing heavily. My head was throbbing, my eyes trying to come into focus. I looked around the dark hotel room, disoriented. _Where the hell am I?_ I leaned over to my left, turning on the lamp on the hotel’s nightstand, realizing I’m in the damn hotel. I glanced at the time. _5:57am. I have to get up anyways._

I moved into the bathroom, turning on the sink. I splashed water on my face, trying to forget the darkness of the nightmare. _Pull yourself together, kid. You need to pull yourself together and try and solve this case quickly_. My hands were gripping the sides of the sink, hunching over it to let the water drip down into the sink. I looked up at myself. Shame washed over me. I remembered screams. I squeezed my eyes shut, the water still running. The hairs on my arms and the back of neck were standing up at the memories.

I opened my eyes, fresh rage darkening within them. My hands tightened around the sink, my muscles tightening with anger. I was pissed. Wound up from all the years of abuse at the hands of people from my childhood, in this very fucking city. In this very fucking county. I heard a knock at the door, Hotch’s voice asking if I was ready. I strode angrily to the door, snapping it open, “What?” I snarled.

Hotch stood, concern painting over his expression, “Are you ready? We need to get to the police station,” Hotch’s voice was firm but concerned, “are you alright?”

I stood there staring at him before answering his question. “Does it look like I’m okay?” I hissed at him. I leaned to the side, motioning for him to enter my room. He walked in and closed the door behind him, walking over to my go bag to get clothes.

“You seem angry. Is it something you want to talk about? Do you need to sit this case out?” Hotch was sitting on the edge of my bed, looking at me. I walked into the bathroom, changing into a pair of black boxer briefs, before stepping out to pull on jeans.

“I don’t need to be removed from this damn case, I need to be here to solve it. I’m not going to let more women die because of my fucking past,” I spat out the words, determined to stay. I pulled on my jeans, pushing the material back into the pockets. I slid my belt through the loops, buckling it deftly. I attached my holster, sliding my gun in its place and securing it. I didn’t carry a second weapon like most of my other team members did, although I was considering it. I pulled a black polo out of my bag and threw it over my head, pulling it on. I buttoned the bottom button, leaving it opened at the throat.

As I went to pull on my socks and boots, Hotch spoke again, “it wouldn’t bother any of us if you sat this one out. All of us are worried about you, Reese.”

I looked up at Hotch, determination in my eyes, “I am not stepping out of this state until we solve this thing. I am not taking off more time to sit around and twiddle my thumbs or some shit. I belong here.” My words were formed with finality. I am not going back to Quantico. Not until this is over. I laced my boots and stood. I walked to the nightstand, opening it to retrieve my badge, sliding it in my right front pocket. I took my phone off the charger, sliding it in the left front pocket of my jeans. I turned to Hotch who was still sitting in his spot on the bed, “shall we?”

* * *

  
I stood in the main room of the Knox County police station, listening to the other members of the team give a profile. I interjected, “this man is probably young, shy, quiet. He will be in a physical job. He isn’t going to be in any sort of office job or anything that requires a college degree. The women he chooses are surrogates, but he doesn’t lack confidence grabbing them. He can and will overpower them, meaning he is bigger in size.” Reid kept speaking, picking up where I had left off.

Eventually the profile briefing ended, and people began moving to get back to work. “Hey RJ, we never knew you were FBI.”

I turned to face who was speaking to me, finding two men around my age standing in front of me. I remembered who they were easily. “Didn’t know I had to inform people that made my life a living hell in school, every detail of my life,” I said harshly, “and don’t call me RJ.” I moved off quickly, escaping into the conference room, my team following.

I was looking at the evidence board trying to connect some of the weird pieces together when the others entered. “Damn kid, got a bone to pick this week, huh?” Morgan said, smirking.

I glared at him, my face hard. “If it wasn’t blatantly obvious, I didn’t have a great time growing up here, now can we please get back to the case?” My tone was cold, I was making a demand more than I was making a request.

“Sure thing there, RJ,” Morgan said teasingly.

“Don’t fucking call me that,” I snapped at him, returning to the work at hand.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Emily said, joking.

I looked up. I was thoroughly pissed off now. “Oh, sorry, I don’t really appreciate it when people joke about my past, didn’t know that I had to explain that to the people I fucking work with,” I replied, my words quick and angry. Everyone stood there, surprised at my anger.

Hotch broke the silence, his voice monotone as he spoke, “Benson, outside, now.” I dropped the file I was holding on the table behind me, walking out quickly. Hotch exited behind me. I walked out the doors into the cool Autumn air, Hotch not far behind me. He stopped just behind me, snapping out my name.

I turned, looking him dead in the face, “what?”

“I want you work the case from the hotel. It’s clear that being here isn’t going to work for you,” Hotch said, his words spoke in finality as mine had been spoken hours earlier. I didn’t even open my mouth to argue, I just moved to the SUV, surprised to see him following close behind me.

I looked at him, puzzled. “What are you doing?”

He caught up to me, standing in front of me, “I’m taking you back to the hotel. I’ve delayed our chat long enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is gonna be.... well... interesting. Hope y'all enjoyed :)


	7. Backstory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reese lets Hotch in. Things take a turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Talk of homophobia, alcoholism, abuse, rape, etc. Please use discretion. This is a darker chapter. 
> 
> Hey there, hope you are enjoying the reading so far. I'm surprised people are actually reading my story. This is where the story is actually going to turn and get gay, so i hope you like gay shit. Anyways, happy reading!

“We choose our joys and sorrows long before we experience them.”  
-Khalil Gibran

* * *

Hotch and I rode back to the hotel in silence, the only sound being the traffic of Knoxville and the air streaming through the car’s vents. I stared out the window at the buildings, cars, and people passing by. I never looked at Hotch, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of my nervousness or attention. We arrived at the hotel and stepped out of the car, walking side by side in silence. We moved to the bank of elevators. I hit the call button, moving to the elevator on my right.

I hit the button for the 3rd floor, standing in silence by the key panel. The tension in the small space was palpable. We stepped out, walking the short distance to my room. I put the keycard against the door, moving inside as the lock clicked open. I moved to the far corner, trying to get away from my boss and the impending conversation about to unfold. _Fuck my life._

I was tense. Too many emotions were running through me. I couldn’t put any clear or rational thoughts together. _I don’t want to talk about my past, especially with my fucking boss. Damn it, Reese. You fucking idiot._ I leaned against the wall of the room, deciding standing was better than sitting. I made myself hold impassivity. I needed to give Hotch less to profile.

“What’s going on with you? And don’t give me bullshit excuses, give me the damn truth,” Hotch said, dominant and unwavering. He wanted the truth and at this point I was willing to give it to him. “What do you want to know?” Was all I could manage to choke out. I slid down the wall onto the floor. Hotch stood in front of me, arms crossed across his chest. “Why are you so aggressive towards the sheriff and the other two who simply asked you a question?” He said, his voice monotone. He was searching my face for answers.

I looked down at my feet, starting to explain, “I grew up here and it was… it was fucking terrible. I knew the sheriff as a kid. I never got in trouble or anything… but he didn’t like me. He was a friend of my dad’s,” I answered. I didn’t want to say more until he asked, trying to hold on to as much private information as I could.

Hotch’s face softened, he began asking another question, “what about the other two?”

I inhaled, “we went to high school together. It was a small school and I was a social outcast. They made my life a living hell just like everyone else did. I just,” I swallowed, continuing my sentence, “I just didn’t want to be friendly with people that treated me like absolute shit all the time.” Hotch stood for a minute, trying to figure out what to ask next.

Finally, he spoke again, another question. “What did they do to you?” I was slightly surprised at the question but answered him anyways. I felt like I owed him the truth.

“They did what most asshats in high school do. Stole my shit, picked on me because I was smart, beat me senseless at any given opportunity, blamed me for everything. They were just immature assholes, Hotch,” I replied. _Please just stop asking me questions. Please just let me get back to work. Please._

“What about the sheriff and your father? You seemed angry at the mention of your father,” he asked, his inflection quizzical.

I looked up at him, pleading with my eyes. When I saw I was going to have to answer, I sighed. I was going to have to reveal painful things about my life. “My mom died when I was 6. It hit my dad hard. He was an alcoholic and a mean drunk, but he was just an asshole in general. Anyways, when I got into high school I um… I told a few friends that I was… that I was gay, and he didn’t like that,” I said, my voice devoid of any emotion, tears pooling in my eyes, “he beat me senseless. And then one night he was so drunk and so fucking angry and he…” My voice broke, sobs raking my body. _I want to disappear. Please make it stop. Please let this be enough. Please._

I sat, crying. I finally resumed talking, “One night he told me he would ‘fix me so I would stop being such a faggot.’ He beat me harder than he ever had and when he was done… he raped me. He fucking raped me in hopes I would stop being gay.” I stopped talking. I was exhausted and I didn’t want to talk anymore. I felt the vibration of Hotch walking to me, kneeling in front of me he finally spoke, “Reese. If you didn’t want to tell me that you didn’t have to.” I heard guilt in his voice. I looked up at him, my eyes clouded by my tears, “no. No I needed to. You deserved the truth. Just like I deserved what that bastard did to me. Please don’t give me your damn pity,” was all I could muster. I didn’t want to argue about this anymore. I was so tired.

I looked back down at my feet, crying softly. My face was red with shame and embarrassment. I was crying in front of my boss, about to get fired for being an immature little bitch. Hotch reached out to touch my face, tilting my chin to bring my gaze to his when I didn’t recoil or move away. “No one deserves that, Reese. No one. I don’t want you to go back to that office, you understand. You can work the case from here,” Hotch spoke, his voice soft, almost sweet.

I felt Hotch move, moving me towards him. He was pulling me into a hug. Aaron motherfucking Hotchner was hugging me. I just accepted it. I didn’t have the strength to struggle. I cried into his shoulder, feeling so unbelievably embarrassed and broken. Finally, I pulled my face off the material of his suit jacket, speaking, “Hotch, you’re my boss.”

He moved, standing us both up, letting me get my balance he replied, “and you’re my friend, Reese. You’re a good kid. I don’t care if people get upset for comforting a friend.” He walked me over to the bed, basically supporting my entire body. He sat me down on the edge, kneeling in front of me he spoke, soft kind words. I finally stopped crying, looking anywhere but Hotch’s face. Shame was still hanging heavy in my gut and I didn’t want to project it more than I already was. “I wouldn’t ask this unless I really needed to know, but I won’t if you want me to stop asking you these questions. You’ve already told me more than I really needed to know,” Hotch said. He was still speaking softly. I had never seen this side of Hotch. The side of him that was comforting and sweet. I nodded my head, “just ask them. I don’t want to do this later.” He nodded his understanding and continued, “did the sheriff--"

I cut him off before he could finish, “no the sheriff didn’t… but he wouldn’t do anything to stop it. He had been friends with my dad since they were kids. They grew up together,” I explained.

I could feel the rage coming off Hotch’s body after that. He was pissed. He wanted to rip the sheriff apart and I knew it. He kept his composure, asking another question, “is that when you started hurting yourself?” I exhaled, willing myself to get through this without crying again.

“No. It had started earlier. When my dad had first started slapping me around,” I said timidly.

I saw something click in Hotch’s mind. A piece of the puzzle had fallen in to place for him or something. He spoke again, surprising me with the question, “is that why you have problems with authority?” I looked at him, puzzled. I didn’t know how to respond.

“I… I didn’t really think I had problems with authority,” I told him truthfully.

He let out a stiff laugh, “Reese, what do you think that was in the conference room? Was that out of character for you?”

I thought about it for a minute, lost in concentration. I finally reached a conclusion, “yes, actually, it was. I don’t think I am like that normally.”

“Then you have a problem with my authority?” Hotch said, expecting an answer.

I shook my head, “no. At least I don’t think so.” I attached my thinking to the question, deciding that it was better than thinking about painful memories. Hotch watched me, letting me think long and hard. We both sat like that for what seemed like a long time.

Eventually he spoke again, “do you feel a need to defy me? Do you feel like you need me to prove myself?”

I looked down at him in confusion. It was a valid question, just not the one I had expected. I thought about his words. _That sounds… less professional and more sexual. What the hell is going on here?_ “Hotch, why are you asking me this?” I looked at him, concentrating on any micro expression that could give me a clue as to where this conversation was heading.

He stared at me a minute before replying, “in almost every conversation we have now, I have to prove my control. I must prove my authority. If you think about it, you will realize it too. I think you’ve been doing it without being conscious of it.” I opened my mouth to speak but he cut me off, “no. I’m talking.” I glared at him.

“See. Like that. I have to prove myself to you, break you down,” he pointed out. I recoiled slightly, realizing he was right. I had a clue where this was going, and I didn’t know what to do. What the hell have I gotten myself into now? He looked me dead in the eyes, his gaze serious, “do you want me to control you?” I gasped in surprise. _This is happening. This is actually fucking happening. What am I supposed to say? He’s my boss._ He chuckled at my facial expression.

I stuttered, speechless, “Hotch it sounds like… like you want me to be your submissive…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The daddy issues are coming out and so is the homosexual shit. Hope you enjoyed :)


	8. The Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hotch it sounds like... like you want me to be your submissive..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the gay shit starts. I haven't written smut before (this chapter doesn't have any) so bare with me as it will be incorporated into this fic. Did I plan to get Hotch and the OC together? Yes. Surprise, bitches. 
> 
> Hope you guys like this chapter. Any formatting issues will be taken care of later. Happy reading, kind stranger.

“Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment.”  
-Buddha

* * *

Hotch eyed me, wanting to make sure that what he was about to ask or tell me wasn’t going to break me. “That is exactly what I am asking you,” Hotch replied. He was gaging my reaction, trying to determine if he had overstepped. I sat there in utter shock. I had no idea what to say let alone what to do. _He’s my boss_. He chuckled, “no witty reply?”

I looked down at him, panic clear on my face, “Hotch, you are my boss! How am I supposed to be lighthearted when you just asked me to enter into a sexual relationship with you!?”

He had the grace to look a little shy. _What the fuck is my life? What the absolute fuck?_ He took the liberty of elaborating, “yes, I would enter into sexual relations with you, but only if you want to. If you haven’t noticed, you are quite the looker. If you say no, I will drop this, and I will get back to working. I won’t bother you with it again.” I stared at him wide eyed. It took me a minute to organize any sort of thought. I was more confused that I wanted to say yes to him.

After a minute of just staring at him I responded, “Hotch. You are my boss. What are we going to do about the rest of the team? About Strauss? She wants your head on a fucking stick!”

He laughed at the last comment, answering confidently, “they wouldn’t care as long as we kept it under wraps. It wouldn’t be a problem and Strauss wouldn’t even have a clue. We both know that.”

I was already tired. I didn’t want to think anymore. And that’s what Hotch was offering me. A way to let go of my thinking, especially after days like this, where my life was all fucked up. _I’m actually considering this. This is a legitimate offer and I am thinking this over, about to give him a legitimate answer. What did I do to deserve this?_ “You can take time to think about it, if you need it,” Hotch threw out. I didn’t need that as much as I needed a few questions answered first.

“What would the dynamic of this relationship even be, Hotch? You’re already my boss. I need to know that there would be some balance, not just me getting thrown around all the time with no chance to have my own opinions,” I told him. I needed a little bit of control if this was ever going to work.

I could tell Hotch had played this game before, although I never knew he had played it with other men. “You would still get an opinion. I would just have control in the sexual aspects and some in your day to day life, if you were ok with it. Nothing over the top. I still want you to be able to be a normal adult,” he answered, confident. It was clear he was in his element.

I thought about it for a moment, trying to weigh my options. “I want to say yes, but I want to discuss these rules later. I need to have more of this outlined before I agree in full confidence,” I told him truthfully. I enjoyed the idea of Hotch calling the shots. I also enjoyed the idea of making him break down my defiance and him taking his control.

He looked down at the watch on his wrist, “I need to get back. You can work from here. Call us if you have anything or need something.”

I nodded, standing up I spoke, “sure thing, boss.”

* * *

I was actually going to do this. I was actually about to talk about a sexual relationship between me and my fucking boss. _God, my life is a mess._ I sat across from Hotch at a table in a semi-crowded restaurant. He had asked me to go out to dinner after the Knoxville case had ended. They had caught the unsub after a few days of hard work. I said they because I felt like I hadn’t much beside sitting in a hotel room, crying and attempting to work.

I hadn’t eaten out in Knoxville in years. Once I had moved away, I never saw a reason to return. Hotch and I sat there, my fingers drumming against the table. We were in some Italian place, not fancy but not cheap either. Hotch was in his work attire and I was in a dress shirt and black jeans, my holster still attached to my belt. I looked at my menu, not wanting to be the one who initiated eye contact or conversation. If he wanted to be the dominant, he could go right on ahead.

When I looked up he was looking at me, eyes dark. “What?” I asked, clueless.

He looked at me for a moment, deciding to answer he replied, “nothing. Just analyzing you, that’s all. You seem nervous.”

I forced out a small laugh, “Nervous? Why would I be nervous about this? Casually talking about sleeping with my boss, that’s not nerve racking at all!” I rolled my eyes and he smirked, watching me. Our waiter interrupted us, asking us if we were ready to order. I ordered tortellini. Hotch ordered a damn calzone. “A calzone? You had an entire menu of choices and you ordered a damn calzone? What are you, a woman going through a midlife crisis?” He chuckled at my sarcasm.

“What? You not a fan of my food choice?”

I looked at him, enjoying the laid-back banter that we had started, “no, I just thought that you would order something else, that’s all there, boss.” I took a sip of my water. I felt the most relaxed I had been since we arrived in this god forsaken city.

He grinned, relaxed and somewhat content it seemed. “You have a way with sarcasm, you know that?” he said, still grinning at me.

“Thanks, it’s the trauma,” I said, completely honest. That’s what made my jokes funny. The trauma behind them. “I learned to use it like a coping mechanism, among other ways,” I told him, telling him more about myself, “it’s the only way I’ve managed to keep it together this long.” He gave me a pained look, his smile thinning a bit. “Anyways, that’s not why we are here. Get on with it, please. The quicker and less awkward this is, the quicker I can stop cringing internally,” I said, somewhat jokingly.

He looked at me over his drinking glass, taking a large sip of his water before setting it down on the table. “What do you want to know?”

I thought about it for a moment, trying to find what question was the most suitable for my opening. “What are the basic ground rules? I need to know I have some leverage or leeway in certain areas,” I said, forcing my voice to be confident as I spoke.

“Well, from what I’ve put together, you aren’t one for rule following,” he said, smirking, “but basically, I would be your dominant. I would force you into submission, for lack of a better term. I would break your defiance and make you submit to me.”

“Pretty standard, then, huh?” I asked. I had been in dom/sub relationships before, but this one seemed different for whatever reason.

Hotch smiled, “not exactly. You would have some rules that you would need to follow outside the bedroom, but they aren’t extreme, and they are few and far between. The waiter put our meals on the table.

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

Hotch picked up his knife and fork, cutting into his calzone, “for one you wouldn’t get to go out drinking whenever you have something bothering you.”

I took a bite of my food, thinking about it while I chewed. “Alright, that’s fair. What else?”

Hotch swallowed, “no more lying, that pisses me off and stresses you out.”

I nodded, “another fair point. Anymore?”

He grinned, “no more getting off with out my permission.” I nearly choked on the piece of pasta in my mouth, stunned by the comment. Hotch made sure I was ok before chuckling lightly.

“I don’t know about that one, sir,” was all I could manage in reply. He was still chuckling, pleased he had surprised me that much. I glared in response.

“Who knew you had this much of a bratty streak in you?” Hotch asked, amused by this entire conversation.

I chewed my food, still glaring. “Not me, apparently. Stop having so much fun at my expense,” I said, teasing him slightly.

He feigned fake distaste, “what would be the fun in that?” I was relaxed. Enjoying this laid-back banter. I didn’t feel uncomfortable with what Hotch was offering. “And one more thing,” he interjected, “when we are in private like this, call me Aaron. Please. Hotch is my name when I’m working.” I nodded, accepting his request.

Aaron and I kept bantering back and forth the entire meal, the happiest we had been talking in a long time. I was happy that I could enjoy a different side of him, one he didn’t show to other people very often. I felt appreciative and because of that I snatched the bill and paid. “Next time, I’m paying,” he said, a little upset I paid rather than him. “Well, what do you think? No pressure. You can take more time to think if you need it,” Aaron told me, his face unreadable.

“I think your rules and wants were fair, therefore I am willing to accept you offer to enter into ‘sexual relations’,” I said, grinning at him.

He smiled, “good. I’m glad.”

“Prepare yourself, Aaron. If I’m as bratty as you say I am, I have a feeling I’m going to make your job hard,” I said, teasing him.

His eyes darkened and he chuckled, “is that so?” I nodded, smirking at him.

“Challenge accepted then.”

* * *

I sat at my desk back in Quantico, Virginia, filling out yet another boring report. We had gotten back to Quantico a few hours ago, the others already going home to get some much-needed rest. I had felt guilty about not working the majority of the time and decided to do reports and other paperwork. Hotch was still in his office, probably doing the same. I had compiled a stack of 15 files, all completed, ready to pass by Hotch’s desk. I stood, stretching my back.

I walked up the short set of stairs, knocking on Hotch’s door. “Come in,” he said, still focused on the work in front of him.

“I finished these, boss,” I told him, walking over to set them on the corner of his desk. He looked up at me, taking the files out of my hands.

He sighed, “how much more work do you have left?”

I sat in one of the chairs across from his, “none really. I didn’t even have to do all those reports in all honesty,” I told him.

He nodded, clearly approving of my work ethic. “Do you want to get dinner?”

I looked at my phone, checking the time that winked onto my screen. _5:03pm._ “Sure, I have time,” I responded.

“Great, let me finish this and then we can go get something to eat,” he told me. I left his office, returning to my desk to power off my computer and get my go bag. I was reorganizing files on my desk when he stopped next to it, “ready?”

I picked up my go bag, “as I’ll ever be.”

* * *

We were sitting in a Chinese restaurant, talking with each other when the waitress came to ask for our drink order. “I’ll have a water and a Miller Lite if you have it,” I told our waitress. I looked at her name tag. _Shauna._

“I can get you that, and for you sir?” She asked Hotch pointedly.

“I’ll have a water, thanks,” he said, giving her a small smile before she moved away to get our drinks. “I thought I said no alcohol?” He was in Aaron mode now, not Hotch. He was like two different people.

I gave him a puzzled look, “do I look depressed to you? We both know I can’t get drunk off of a singular beer.” We both chuckled, remembering the drinking contest in Denver.

“You don’t look depressed, but you still need to ask before you go off drinking, Reese,” Hotch said in his matter-of-fact tone.

I took that as a chance to test his authority, “Is that so? And if I don’t? What will you do, complain about it until I get annoyed?”

He gave me a wicked smile, happy that I was stepping into my role in this relationship, “Not at all. I’d just find a way to convince you to follow the rules, that’s all.” I swallowed, a new type of energy running through my veins. I was definitely happy with where this was going. _Please dear god, prove it to me right the fuck now._

Shauna sat our drinks on the table in front of us, asking if we were ready to order. We ordered our meals and returned to our conversation, a new tension in the air. _Sexual. This is sexual tension._ I sipped my beer, savoring it and realizing how much better liquor was. Aaron took a sip of his water, eyeing me over his glass. I felt lust run through me, hot and heavy. I decided to resume talking, “how’s Jack?” I knew about Aaron’s son but I had never really seen him much. Every once and a while he would be in the office while Hotch finished working, but I never saw him besides that.

“He’s good. He likes school and thanks to Reid, he also likes magic.”

I grimaced. “Yeah, you can thank Reid for that,” I laughed. Reid was quite the magic expert, although physics was his best area of expertise. “I wish I had half of Reid’s math knowledge sometimes. It would have helped me so much in school,” I commented. Aaron raised his eyebrows in a silent question. “I was not a math kid, although that isn’t psychologically accurate. Great, now I sound like Reid,” I muttered. We both laughed.

A few minutes later our food was sat in front of us. I began eating, although I had some difficulty using the damn chopsticks. They weren’t exactly common in Knoxville. I could use them well enough. “You are better with them than Reid is,” Aaron said, grinning.

“What with chopsticks?” He nodded, still grinning. My face went somewhat red at the comparison. We ate in silence for the most part, too focused on the food to stop and talk.

“I am paying this time,” Aaron said, his tone authoritative.

I rose to that challenge, deciding to tease him while he was in a good mood, “or what? Let me pay, especially since you got my drinks back in Knoxville,” I told him, my tone teasing.

He raised his eyebrows, playing along with me, “do you really want to find out?”

I smirked, “why not? I still owe you for those drinks, too.” When Shauna placed the bill in front of me, I couldn’t help but smile in triumph. I put my card in the leather folder and gave it back to her, letting her go back to working. She came back with it, handing me a pen. I began writing out the receipts, placing the pen inside finishing the payment out. I slid the card and receipt in my wallet, returning that to my back pocket.

We both stood, I moved in front of Aaron to walk to the door, but he put his hand on my shoulder, stopping me in my tracks. I felt his breath by my ear, his voice in a whisper, “I think it’s about time I showed you how I correct defiant little brats like you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is where things get sexual. Hope you guys are ready (I know I'm not). Thanks for reading. Comments are always appreciated :)


	9. The Edge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get... hotter, if you catch my drift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the one. Sorry if it's bad, I haven't wrote just pure smut before... so... 
> 
> Anyways, hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Happy reading, kind stranger :)

“To be trusted is a greater compliment than being loved.”  
-George MacDonald

* * *

I sat in the passenger side of Aaron’s car, looking out the window. Anticipation was coursing steadily through my body. _When’s the last time I got fucking laid? God, must have been fucking forever ago._ I drummed my fingers against my thigh, trying not to look too damn excited. We stopped at a traffic light and Aaron glanced over at me, smiling when he saw how excited I was to get laid. “You excited?”

I continued looking out the window, “me? Excited? Never.” I felt his hand glide onto my thigh, squeezing it gently. We arrived at my apartment complex and parked in the garage, moving towards the elevators. I hit the call button and the elevator opened immediately. We both stepped inside. I hit 9 on the panel and then I was pulled back into Aaron, who was leaning against the back wall of the elevator. His grip was tight against my hips, his chin resting on the top of my head. I could feel him smirking. “Enjoying yourself?” I asked tentatively.

He shrugged, “if I’m not now, I’m about to be.” The doors opened and I walked out, Aaron following closely behind me. I unlocked the door to my apartment stepping inside before being pinned against the closed door. I felt his tongue plunging into my mouth, shocking me with his ferocity. I felt myself harden in my jeans, becoming a little uncomfortable. Aaron moved down my jawline, pressing kisses into my neck, smiling when he glanced down to find me hard. “I thought you said you weren’t excited?” He was very amused.

I rolled my eyes, “shut up.”

He nipped the crook of my neck, “what did you just say?”

I dropped my head against the door, groaning, “I told you to shut up. Need me to explain its definition now too?”

His hands moved underneath my shirt, feeling the skin beneath his hands. He smirked, “mmhm… you're going to regret that later.” One of his hands moved down to cup my dick through my pants and I let out a small moan. He moved his mouth to my ear, nipping at the lobe, stroking me now.

“God damn,” I cursed, my teeth gritting together at the friction. _God, I needed this._ I needed it too damn bad. My hands moved to grip his waste, trying to pull his hips into mine so I could grind against them.

He pushed mine back, smiling at my ear he whispered, “no. If you want to cum later, you need to be a good boy for me.” I moaned at his words, my dick hardening even more. He pulled me back, “where’s your bedroom?”

I exhaled, letting out a small breath before replying, “the farthest door down the hall.” He led me down the hall, practically pushing me into my room and onto the bed. He shrugged out of his jacket and began to untie his tie, tossing them beside me on the bed. I kicked off my shoes. I fell back, my head hitting the mattress. My breathing had quickened, my body tense with anticipation. I looked up to find him kicking off his shoes, before crawling onto the mattress, stretching his body over mine. He looked down at me, “is this ok?” I nodded fiercely, too wound up.

_I need to get off. I need to get off. Please get me off. Please._

He gave me wicked grin before resuming his movements. He leaned down sealing his lips over mine, his tongue exploring my mouth. He sucked on my bottom lip, biting it slightly before returning to admire the effect it had on me. My body was shifting beneath his, need straining in every atom. He moved back, undoing my belt and unbuttoning my jeans, before draping himself back over me. He unbuttoned my dress shirt, pushing it off my abdomen and chest, exposing the tanned flesh. His finger traced my abs, the other supporting himself. It began moving downward, following my happy trail, before massaging the tip of my cock. I let out a moan, enjoying the stimulation. Precum was already leaking out of my tip and I squeezed my eyes shut. Aaron chuckled, happy to see that his small seduction already had me where he wanted me. “You want me to stoke you?”

I opened my eyes, looking straight into his brown irises, “yes. Please, for the love of all things holy, stroke my dick.”

“I thought you said you were going to challenge me,” Aaron said, teasing me with his words now, too. I let out a breath, trying to string words together, “I really don’t-- _fuuuck--_ I really don’t have the brain power to do that right now, asshat.” I felt a sharp slap against my thigh and then a slight sting. “What was that for?” I asked, breathy.

“For being a vulgar brat,” he said, moving his mouth down my neck to my chest. I wasn’t the best looking in the world, but I did keep in shape. I wasn’t scrawny like Reid was, but I wasn’t broad like Morgan. I was somewhere in the middle. His mouth sucked at my nipple, causing it to tighten. His hand was still stroking my dick at a leisurely pace and I knew that was deliberate. I pushed my pelvis up, my cock thrusting into his hand, trying to get more friction. He pushed my pelvis down, pinning me to the bed, his eyes finding my face. My eyes were heavy with lust and need, his hand squeezing my tip. “If you keep trying to make me stroke you faster, I won’t let you cum,” Aaron said, amused and dominant. He was in his damn element. I whimpered, wanting him to stroke me faster. I stopped moving, letting him continue, “good boy.” I damn near came at those two words and he noticed. “You like being praised, don’t you? You act like a brat when you really just want someone to take control and make you a good little boy, is that right?”

All I could do was sit there and take it, moaning in response. My mouth was dry, and I opened my mouth to speak, “please.” That was all that came out of my mouth. I didn’t have the ability to think like a rational human being right now. His words were traveling straight down to my cock.

“Please what? You’re going to have to give me more detail than that,” Aaron told me, his words coming out rough and triumphant.

I could tell he was content by how easily I was submitting but I was fine with that, I just needed to get off. “Please, faster. I need to cum,” I told him, my words coming out quick and filled with need. I was starting to arch slightly, cursing under my breath as he edged me. He pushed me back down onto the bed, smirking at the sight.

“Why should I? You’ve been a defiant little brat almost the entire time I’ve been with you. I don’t think you deserve to cum,” he asserted, his voice coming out low.

I let out a groan, my body aching with the need to cum. He kept stroking me, my body twitching. He was stroking me just fast enough to give me some stimulation, but slow enough to where I wouldn’t be able to come. I let out a string of expletives, “god fucking… damn it… fuck… Jesus fucking Christ.”

I heard a low growl leave Aaron’s throat at my words, “do you want to cum?” I nodded, my eyes squeezing shut, “yes, fuck, please.”

His hand started moving faster, “please, what?”

I opened my eyes to look him in the face, letting out a tense laugh. “If you think I’m going to call you sir in the first session, you’ve got another thing coming,” I stated in my best matter-of-fact tone.

_Fuck this feels good._

He let out a small laugh, “I’ll let you off the hook with that one.” He stroked me fast now, his pace consistent. I was going to cum and he knew it. He moved his hand to grip the base of my cock, stopping my climax. I whimpered, straining for release. “If you want to cum, you need to beg for it. Tell me how much you want to climax,” his voice was rough, lust filled.

I moaned again, struggling to put words together in my brain. “Please, please let me come, please. I need to so damn bad. _Fuucck_. Aaron, please,” I was begging shamelessly, too needy to care.

His mouth came back up to my ear, kissing the sensitive spot behind it before whispering, “cum for me.” His hand resumed stroking me and I came. I came hard. I was shaking with pleasure, the climax racking my body, the warm liquid hitting my abs. I lay under him, breathing heavily, his mouth still by my ear, whispering praises, “such a good boy.”

I smiled at him, “don’t say that, you’ll get me hard again.” We chuckled; our bodies tangled. He moved to lay beside me, pulling my head under his chin. I felt his hand run through my sweat dampened hair. I tucked up under him. His body was warm. I closed my eyes, trying to catch my breath. I was sticky from my cum and sweat. At some point we had both lost our shirts. I felt so tired, but I still had to ask him something. “Do you want me to get you off?” I asked, my voice rough and content. I wouldn’t have any problem with it if he said yes, even if I was really tired.

He smiled down at me, “no. Tonight was about you. Do you want to take a shower?” I sat there for a minute, weighing my options. I enjoyed just laying with him, but I really hated being sticky and gross. I nodded after a minute, accepting his offer. He moved, leaving me on the bed. I looked up at him, silently asking him why he was just leaving me here. “I need to turn on the shower,” he explained. I just nodded and collapsed back onto the bed, shutting my eyes. _Damn that was good_. I heard the faint sounds of the shower being turned on and Aaron’s footsteps as he returned to get me. I felt his arms around me before I was lifted into his arms. I opened my eyes, still sleepy and started mumbling, “thanks.” He sat me down on the lip of my bathtub, taking off my socks and pulling my pants and black boxer briefs down off my legs. He dropped them, pausing when he saw the cuts and scars that covered my thighs. I felt his hand run over some of them, his face an emotionless mask. He eventually stood back up, pulling of his own clothes, letting me get a good look at him.

_Damn._

He was in excellent shape, everything covered in toned muscle. I gave an appreciative whistle, causing us both to laugh. I stood moving to get into the shower, Aaron stepping in behind me. I stepped under the warm spray, washing all the sweat and cum off me and wetting my hair. I moved to let Aaron under the water, picking up the shampoo, but before I could put some in my hand, he snatched it away from me. “Allow me,” he said, smiling. I gave him a shy smile, tilting my head so he could massage the shampoo into my hair. He moved me back under the water to let me wash it out while he did the same thing to his own hair. He picked up my conditioner, repeating the process but keeping me away from the water as he picked up my body wash. He turned me around so that I was facing away from him. He massaged the soap into my back and shoulders, his hands coming around me to wash my chest and abdomen. He moved down, avoiding my cock and moving downs my legs. He turned me so I was still facing away from him but now I was standing under the water. He let me get the conditioner out of my hair, not wanting the soap to get into my eyes. I heard the lid of the body wash snap shut and then felt his hands coming around my waist. I looked down to see his hands moving to start stroking my dick again. His mouth came to kiss and softly bite my shoulder, watching me harden over my shoulder. I twitched, still sensitive from the last orgasm. I gasped, biting my bottom lip to hold in a moan. _He is way too damn good at this_. He hummed his amusement at my reaction, his body flush against my back.

“Are you trying to kill me?” I muttered. He grinned, “better than most ways to go.”

He kept stroking, his other hand cupping my ass, digging his fingers into it. I let out a deep exhalation, already building up to another orgasm. I felt Aaron grin against my neck, “already hard and eager to cum for me again, such a good boy.”

I swallowed, my hands moving to the wall in front of me to support my body weight. Finally, I couldn’t hold back very much more, “please, let me cum, please.”

He kissed my hair, “cum for me.” I climaxed again, happy that the wall in front of me stopped me from falling over.

We finished our shower, moving back into my bedroom. I pulled on some boxers and threw myself on the mattress, groaning into it. I was so tired. I turned over to find Aaron pulling on his clothes. “You leaving? You can sleep here if you want, but you don’t have to,” I offered.

He looked up, shooting me a small smile before pulling his shirt on, “I need to go home and get some things done.” He padded over to me, planting a kiss on the top of my head, “I’ll see you in the office tomorrow, be good.”

I smirked, getting up to walk him to the door, “what do you mean? I’m always good.”

He rolled his eyes, amused by my clear sarcasm, “if that was the case, we wouldn’t be doing this right now.”

I opened the door for him, moving so he could exit my apartment, “have a good night, Aaron.” I closed the door, content with the night’s events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you have enjoyed the fic so far. Comments/tips/suggestions are always appreciated. Thanks again, kind stranger


	10. Exploration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut. Literal smut (I have a headache and it's easier to write than legit story, don't judge me).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is basically just sex. Like seriously, that's it. I promise I will pick back up on the actual story part, I just needed to write something else for a little while. 
> 
> I apologize for any spelling/grammatical errors, they will be fixed later when I do my 2nd and 3rd proofreads. 
> 
> Happy reading, kind stranger!

“Every human has four endowments- self-awareness, conscience, independent will and creative imagination. These give us the ultimate human freedom… The power to choose, to respond, to change.”  
-Stephen Covey

* * *

I woke up at around 4am to get a quick work out in. I didn’t hit the gym as much as I used to because of how busy my work schedule was. I did cardio and a little weightlifting, nothing too hard after the night I had. I got back to the apartment, checking the time on my phone. _5:26am._ I took a shower and threw together an outfit and put fresh clothes in my go bag. I put on a graphite gray suit with a black tie. I grabbed my go bag and headed out the door, trying to get an early start to the day.

When I arrived in the office, I saw Hotch in his office and JJ in hers, everyone else wasn’t in yet. I turned on my computer and got to work. I was typing on my keyboard, filling out paperwork when all the others walked through. Reid came in first, then Rossi, then Emily, then Morgan. Morgan was almost always the last to make it in. I was still working, ignoring all the talking and other agents running around the office. I looked at my office tray, a new stack of files that needed reports sitting in it.

I got up, moving to pour myself another cup of coffee. I took a sip, savoring the bitter taste from how burnt it was. I sat back down at my desk, sighing. I picked up my pen and got back to working, trying to focus on the monotonous paperwork. I got into my focused headspace, getting through a few reports before taking a small break. I picked them up, taking them up to give to Hotch. I knocked on his door, walking inside to see Hotch on the phone. I handed him the files, sitting the chair across from him when he motioned for me to sit down.

“I’ll call you back when I finish this round of paperwork. Alright, bye,” Hotch said as he hung up the phone.

I quirked my eyebrows, “having fun there, boss man?”

He sighed, massaging his temples, “not particularly.” I laughed, giving him a small smile. I waited for him to speak, somewhat puzzled as to why I was sitting in his office even though I was just dropping off the normal files and reports. “How do you feel this morning?” Hotch asked, his gaze focused on his paperwork.

I quickly caught on, smiling, “I feel pretty damn good, thanks for asking. The guy I hooked up with was kind of a hard ass, though.”

He looked up at me, his brown eyes finding mine. I had an amused look on my face. A smirk crossed his face, clearly switching gears. He set his pen down on his paperwork, leaning back in his desk chair. “Are you actually trying to tease me while we’re at work?” He asked, amused.

I leaned back in my chair, relaxed, “how did you become a prosecutor when you ask so many stupid questions?” He got up, walking around his desk to lean against it in front of me. I sat in front of him, my eyes still in contact with his, my smirk still on my face. He leaned down to my level from where he was standing, our eyes still locked on each other’s. I let out a small exhalation, “what? Did I strike a nerve boss?” He gave me a wolfish grin. I licked my bottom lip, teasing him as well as I possibly could. “Even if we wanted to, we can’t do anything here, boss,” I told him. It was true. We couldn’t get away with anything in the office. Too many people passed in and out and too many people needed to speak to Hotch at any given moment. I wanted to hold my promise of giving him a challenge.

“I know we can’t do it here, but after a night like last night I assumed you would have decided to play nice,” he explained to me.

I chuckled, deciding to play his game, “play nice? Last time I checked, I apparently don’t do that.”

He moved to whisper in my ear, “you don’t right now, but you will. We both know that.” He stood back up, moving around his desk to resume his work.

I stood, walking to the door, looking back at him I said, “maybe one of these days you can teach me, huh boss? If we don’t have a case, you know where I live.” He looked at me, nodding his understanding.

* * *

I wrapped up my work at 7:30, deciding to go home after everyone else because we didn’t get a new case in. I decided to grab some food from the pizza place down the street, not in the mood to cook food. I sat the pizza box on the counter, opening the fridge and pouring myself a drink. I thought about Aaron’s words on my drinking and chuckled to myself, fond of the memory. I moved to my couch setting the box and tumbler on the coffee table, kicking off my shoes.

I opened the lid, picking up a slice of my pizza. A knock came at the door. I dropped the slice back into the box, walking over to the door. I cracked it open before opening it all the way. “Hey, boss,” I said, walking back to the couch, letting him come in, shutting the door. I went back to my spot on the couch, picking my pizza slice back up, “how’s it going?” I took a bite of my food, shoving the box towards him. He kicked off his shoes, taking a slice of my pizza.

“It’s going,” he said, exhaling. He looked tired. He took a bite, sitting on the couch next to me. He swallowed, “I told you no alcohol. You know the rules.”

I looked at him, dropping my slice back in the box, picking up my tumbler. I looked him dead in the eyes, taking a sip of it before offering it to him, “you a whiskey drinker?”

He turned to look directly at me, clearly accepting my challenge. “No. I prefer beer over hard liquor,” he replied, taking the tumbler out of my hand and placing it back on the table. I resumed eating, picking my slice back up, finishing it. I picked up another, eating with him in silence. After a while I stood, walking to the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water and two glasses. I set them down, pouring it into both glasses. I drained mine. He took a sip of his, eating the pizza in front of us. I stood, starting to strip off my clothes as I walked down the hallway, needing to get out of my work clothes. I hung my suit back in my closet, grabbing a t-shirt and throwing it on my bed. I padded over to my dresser, grabbing a pair of gym shorts and sliding them on. I threw my shirt on, turning to find Aaron leaning in the door jam. “See anything you like?” I asked, teasing.

He walked in the room, moving towards me. He had already lost his jacket, his tie hanging around his neck, his hands in his pockets. _This is about to get fun._ I stood there, waiting for him to get to me. I wanted to have some fun with him this time around. He approached me, taking his hands out of his pockets and gripping my waist. I dropped my head onto his shoulder, leaning into his touch. “Do you want to do this?” he murmured, his lips in my hair.

“I’m up for it if you are, but I don’t mind just sitting on the couch,” I replied.

I heard him humming against my head, “oh no, you’re not getting out of this one.”

I smiled into his shoulder, “wasn’t planning on it.”

His hands moved to grip my ass, squeezing it. One of them moved under the waist band of my boxers, touching my lower back. I twitched out of shock of being touched. His hands felt cold against my skin. “Are you ok with anal play?” he asked, serious. I nodded. “I need you to tell me that you are, sweetheart. Use your words.” It was an order.

I catalogued the honorific in the back of my brain, following his request, “yes, I’m fine with anal play.” He moved his mouth down to catch my earlobe between his teeth, softly biting. My breath hissed between my teeth; anticipation coiled like a spring in my core. He started moving me towards the bed, stepping back, his grip still holding me tight. He sat down on the edge of my mattress, having me stand between his legs.

He pulled my shorts down, “step out.” I stepped out of them, kicking them to the side. He moved to the hem of my t-shirt. “Lift your arms,” he ordered. It wasn’t a request. I lifted them up, my shirt slipping over my head, joining my shorts on the floor. He hummed his approval of my almost nude state. He ran his hands down the back of my thighs, massaging the backs of them. _This is gonna be a long ass night._ He was taking his time, avoiding my cock. He leaned into my abdomen, pressing kisses up and down my abs. I couldn’t help but groan. “This is going to be a long night for you, sweetheart. Do you know what’s going to happen to you?” he asked me, the question legitimate, not rhetorical. I shook my head, wanting to know, my curiosity peaked. He slid one hand too my ass, a finger pushing against my asshole. I pushed forward slightly, unprepared for the touch. He gripped my hips to hold me still, smiling at my surprise. “I’m going to claim this hole and the only way your going to cum is by me fingering you back here,” he informed me, his voice low. I let out a whimper. “Have you been fucked here before?” he was smirking at me, enjoying my shock. I was still trying to kick my mind back in gear, trying to find the words that answered his questions.

I stuttered my answer, “y-yes… but o-only o-once.” He let out a noise that I could only assume was approval or his content, I wasn’t quite sure in my semi-shocked head space. I had lost my virginity in college but because of the heavy course load in my psych degree and lack of social skills, I hadn’t gotten out much. The one and only time I had sex was because I was drunk and up for anything. I didn’t remember much of the experience.

“You have any lube?” he asked.

I was always on for preparedness and I did stroke one out on occasion, so I did have a bottle. “Yeah, it’s in my nightstand drawer,” I said.

He leaned over, opening the drawer and taking out the bottle, sitting it on the bed beside him. He closed the drawer, straightening in front of me. He pulled my boxers down, “step out.” I stepped out of them, kicking them in the pile with the rest of my clothes. He moved me so that I was next to his knees.

_Well this is about to happen._

He pulled me over his lap, spreading my legs apart to where he could finger my entrance. He threaded his legs between mine, insuring I couldn’t get away from him. I felt a hand massage my ass, brushing over my thighs. He playfully smacked my upturned ass, sending a small sting through my system. “Jokes on you, I like that type of shit,” I said, my voice hoarse.

He slapped my ass again, “good. If you keep drinking without permission, this is where your going to be.” I rolled my eyes, earning me another slap, harder this time.

“Damn profilers,” I mumbled.

I heard the cap of the lube bottle snap open. One of his hands spread my cheeks apart, a finger rimming the opening. The lube was fucking cold.

_Jesus, that’s fucking cold. Fuck._

He pushed in slowly, letting me get used to the pressure. “Are you okay?” he asked, serious. He clearly wanted me to be comfortable.

“Y-yeah. It’s just… a lot of pressure. I’m okay,” I replied, my voice breathy.

He slid his finger to the knuckle before sliding back and then back in. I let out a small, guttural moan. “Enjoying this already?” he teased. I just nodded my head, too turned on to use my damn words. “You’re being such a good boy for me,” he praised. I felt my already hard cock, twitch. “I’m going to add another finger, ok?” I just nodded, silently accepting his request. He slid another finger inside me, holding it there, letting me get used to the new feeling. I was breathing harder, now. He began moving them, pumping in and out gently.

“More, please,” I begged quietly.

“You want more?” he asked, confirming my words. I nodded, whimpering. I could tell he was grinning.He began pumping in and out faster, causing me to grip onto his calf harder. I moaned again, louder this time. “Such an eager little brat aren’t you, sweetheart?” his voice was lust filled. I could feel his dick hardening against my stomach. I grinned at that. The fact that I was getting him hard. I felt kind of proud at that thought, although it was quickly pushed to the back of my mind. I felt immense pleasure at this push of his fingers, moaning loudly, arching off his lap. He pushed me back down onto his thighs, breath hissing out of his teeth.

“What the fuck did you just do,” I asked him, practically moaning the words.

He let out a small laugh, his breath coming out heavier. “I just found your sweet spot,” he explained. My eyes rolled to the back of my skull, pleasure spreading through out my extremities. I pulled my head up, resting my forehead against his thigh, exhaling into it. He chuckled, amused at my arousal. I felt a third finger push into me, stretching me out. It burned a little, but it wasn’t a bad feeling. “Feel good?” he asked me.

“Y-yes, it feels… so fucking good,” I replied.

He smacked my ass, making me jump a little. “Yes, what?” he asked.

I grinned, knowing exactly what he wanted. I held out, deciding to defy him just a little bit more. “We still aren’t there yet, but nice try,” I said, teasing him.

He spanked me again. “Wrong answer,” he growled. He was just as aroused as I was. “Yes, _what_?” he asked again, his fingers picking up speed.

I moaned, feeling him hit my sweet spot again. I relented, too excited and needy to will myself to be stubborn, “yes, _sir._ ” I put emphasis on the word.

He let out another guttural sound. It came from low in his throat, deep and rough. I felt him leaning down to whisper in my ear, “good boy.” I was so needy now. _I need to cum. Fuck, I need to cum so fucking bad._ I was shifting on his lap, grinding my cock into his hard thighs. I needed more stimulation. I was close to cumming, I could practically taste it. He let out a rough laugh, noticing my movement, “what are you doing down there? Trying to cum without permission,” he tsk-ed, feigning disapproval, “no, no, no, if you want to cum you need my permission. I own your pleasure, baby boy.” The nickname caught me by surprise, stilling my movements. “Liked that one, did you?” he asked, amusement dripping from his words. He was clearly enjoying himself.

_Evil bastard._

“Fuck you, Aaron,” I spit back. He spanked me, hard.

“Watch your mouth,” he reprimanded.

“Why should I? Evil bastard,” I said, sarcasm clear in my inflection. He hit my ass again, this time it legitimately stung.

“If you keep running your bratty mouth, I’m not going to let you cum, and I’m going to spank your ass raw,” he threatened. That was good enough of a threat for me. I bit my bottom lip, trying to keep my moan in my throat. His fingers sped up, this time hitting my sweet spot every time.

Finally, I was begging, the need to cum overtaking me, “please, please let me cum, Aaron, please. I need to cum, please, I can’t fucking take it.” He slowed down, making me to groan.

He leaned down again, “who’s hole is this?”

“Yours. It’s yours. Please, please let me cum for you, please,” I begged, shameless, “please, I’ll be good for you, please just let me cum.” He growled, pleased by my submission. He began speeding up again. I held myself back, trying to make sure I didn’t cum too early. He propped me up, letting the pressure off the base of my cock. Finally, I heard the magic words, “cum for me, baby boy.” I came, moaning his name as I did it. I was shaking with pleasure, his fingers still massaging that spot. I hung over his lap, my body tired.

His fingers pulled out of me, resting his hand on my ass. His other hand rubbed up and down my back, comforting me. “Can I lay on the bed, or do you plan on doing more to me because you enjoy torturing me?” I asked. He chuckled, helping me to my feet. I threw myself down on the bed, curling up and shutting my eyes.

“Is it alright if I sleep here?” he asked me.

“Is it Friday night?” I mumbled back.

“It is, actually,” he responded.

“Then yes, you can sleep here. Preferably next to me,” I mumbled, sleepily. He chuckled. “Where are you going?” I asked when I heard him moving out of the room.

“I’m getting a change of clothes out of my go bag,” he replied, moving out of the room. He returned in sweats and a t-shirt, standing in front of the bed looking down at me. “Here, move your head onto the pillows,” he said, moving me and then spooning against my back. He was warm, his arm coming across my chest to hold me against him.

His mouth was in my hair, his other hand gripping my waist. My eyes were heavy, my body limp from all the straining I did earlier. I fell asleep in his arms.

* * *

I woke up a few minutes later, a little disoriented. I felt Aaron’s hand stroking my hair and I turned to face him. His eyes had a warmth in them I never saw at work. He was happy being here, with me. I let out an exhalation, feeling comfortable by that little piece of knowledge. “What are you smiling about?” he asked, clearly curious.

“Just comfortable, that’s all,” I explained. He stroked my shoulder, his mouth moving to kiss my forehead. I sat there, just happy to be next to him. We had done this twice and I was already happy with the benefits of this relationship. “Can I… can I ask you something?” I said, a little apprehensive.

He smirked, “asking for permission now? That’s new.”

My face reddened slightly, making him laugh. “I um… can I… like… get you off? I feel bad…” my voice trailed off, quieting.

He tilted my chin up with his fingers, looking at me straight in the eyes. I looked away, feeling embarrassed. “Do you want me to take point, so to speak?” he asked, finding my embarrassment funny. I nodded, feeling shy. He kissed my forehead before moving us. He moved, sitting like he did earlier on the edge of the bed, having me kneel in between his legs. _I’m about to suck his soul out of his cock. Time to get some payback, if I can._ I reached up, stroking the length of his cock. He hardened quickly, pulsing slightly in my hand, precum beading at the tip.

I smirked, “oh how the tables have turned.”

He gave me a wolfish grin, speaking low from his throat, “oh no, I’m still in charge here, sweetheart.” He ran a hand through my hair, gripping it at the roots. I moved forward, taking his tip in my mouth. I swirled my tongue around the end, taking my time. I licked down the side of his shaft, all the way to the base. I kept doing this, trying to tease him like he had teased me. “Take me in your mouth,” he ordered. I looked up at him, taking his dick in my mouth. I took him as far as I could go, holding myself there for a few seconds before pulling off. I repeated this, over and over, testing his patience. After a few minutes I could feel the lust coming off his body. He pushed my mouth down on his cock, thrusting in and out, fucking my mouth. He stood, moving us back a little bit. I tapped his thigh and he pulled me off, letting me get air, my hand stroking him quick and hard. He moved my head back to take him in my mouth again, gagging on his length. He was big. “I’m going to cum in your mouth,” he growled. I moaned around him, aroused by the grit in his voice. After a few more strokes he came down my throat, making me swallow.

He pulled me off his dick, pulling me up to hold he closely. Tears from all the gagging rolled down my cheeks, my throat somewhat sore. He held me, trying to slow his breathing. We moved back to the bed, spooning together, enjoying each other’s company until we both fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments/feedback are always helpful. Thanks for reading, kind stranger :)
> 
> If your cringing, don't worry, I am too. I have these backed up on my hard drive, let's hope no one finds them.


	11. Terror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night terror brings back unwanted feelings. Hotch comforts Reese.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Rape, abuse, etc. Please use discretion.
> 
> This chapter is meant to give more insight to Reese's past and build on his character arc. I apologize for any grammatical/spelling errors, they will be fixed later. 
> 
> Happy reading, kind stranger.

“A failure is not always a mistake, it may simply be the best one can do under the circumstances. The real mistake is to stop trying.”  
-B. F. Skinner

* * *

**_*8 years earlier*_ **

  
_“Damn it, Reese! I told you to get this shit done before I got home! You’re such a dumb little bitch,” the bastard yelled. I was in the kitchen, cooking dinner. I swallowed, praying he would just go and pass out on the couch._

_“I- I’m s-sorry,” I stuttered quietly._

_He stomped through the house, walking towards me and grabbing me by the collar, “sorry doesn’t cut it, fag boy.” He pushed me back into the counter, my lower back connecting with the lip of the granite. Pain radiated through my back and up my spine._ _He moved to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of whiskey out of the door. He opened it, drinking directly from the bottle. I went back to cooking, trying to make him somewhat satisfied with something I was doing. I flipped the chicken in the pan, letting it cook in the oil._

_“A-are you hungry?” I asked, fear looming over me. He just nodded and gestured while he moved to his normal place in the living room. I kept cooking, making him a plate and taking it to him. I escaped back to the kitchen quickly, trying to scarf some food down before anything happened._

_“Reese. Reese get in here!” he yelled, demanding, “take this plate and get your ass back in here.” I picked up his plate, washing it off and putting it in the dishwasher. I crept back into the living room, terrified of what he was going to do. Adrenaline was pumping through my veins. He stood, grabbing me roughly, tossing me against the wall. I heard his belt and then it sliding out of his belt loops._

_The first strike came quick and hard, I screamed in pain. “Shut up you stupid little bitch. Just shut up,” he snarled at me, hitting me again. The belt snapped against my skin, leaving a welt. He struck again and again and again, moving up and down my body. I was screaming in pain, begging him to stop. He pulled me towards him before pushing me on the couch. **No. No not this. Please not this. Please don’t. Please.** I heard the zipper of his jeans and then the material against my legs._

_He grabbed me, pinning me beneath him, pulling down my pants to access what he wanted. He pushed roughly into me. I let out a scream, but it was muffled by the couch cushion. Tears fell out of my eyes, pain shooting through out my body. I could hear him panting, enjoying my pain. “Like that? I bet you do faggot. I bet you like having my cock forced up your tight ass,” he sneered. **Please stop. Please stop. Please, please, stop, please.**_

* * *

I awoke to being shook. I lashed out, still disoriented from my night terror. “Reese, Reese. It’s me, Aaron. You’re safe, you’re having a nightmare,” Aaron said, his voice clear. I stopped fighting, trying to pull myself out of my daze. I felt Aaron’s hands on my wrists, holding me in place to stop my thrashing. He let go of me.

“I- I’m so sorry, please forgive me, I’m so sorry,” my voice was hoarse, tears falling down my cheeks. I pulled away, standing and rushing out of the room. I moved to the space between my coffee table and couch, curling myself into a ball on the floor. I sobbed, letting them overtake and rack my body. I was still naked, shaking on the cold floor. I could feel Aaron’s presence in the room before he had walked over to me. He was sitting on the couch next to where I was on the floor.

“Can I touch you?” he asked, clearly concerned.

My voice broke as I spoke, “y-yes.” He pulled me up, setting me in his lap. I cried into his shoulder, his hand stroking my hair and massaging my back. I cried until I physically couldn’t, finally quieting and just sitting in his lap. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked. I shook my head no. _I can’t talk about this right now. I just want to shower._ “That’s ok. You are safe here, understand? You can talk to me if you want to,” he explained, trying to comfort me. I started to try and relax, my muscles loosening. He stroked my hair, running his fingers through the damp strands. He moved, laying down on the couch letting me lay on top of him. My head rested on his chest. I could hear his heartbeat and felt his breathing. We laid like that for a long time. I finally felt relaxed. My breathing was finally steady, my body calm. I kept my head on his chest.

“Can we take a shower?” I asked him quietly.

“Do you want me to shower with you?” he asked back.

I took a second, thinking about it. I decided I did. I felt safe with him. “Yes, if your fine with that,” I said, taking a deep breath before adding, “you make me feel safe.”

He tilted my chin up to look at him. “I’m honored,” he said. It was genuine. He shifted, standing up with me in his arms. He carried me to the bathroom sitting me on the edge of the bathtub. He turned on the water before exiting the room. I just sat there, shivering because of how cold it was. He came back with some clothes, setting them on the bathroom vanity. He stripped out of his clothes, moving to feel the temperature of the water. He moved back to me, “come here.” I got up, obeying the command. I shuffled towards him, stepping in the shower. He pulled me into his arms, hugging me under the water. I heard the shampoo bottle open and felt his fingers massaging the soap into my hair. He washed the soap out, replacing it with conditioner. I leaned into his body, resting my head on his shoulder while he massaged the soap into my skin.

He took his time, his hands gentle. He washed the soap off my body and hair, his arms still tight around me. I felt tired. “Do you want to get clean too?” I mumbled against his shoulder.

“No,” he murmured against my hair. He turned off the water, shuffling out of the shower with me. He grabbed a towel and wrapped me in it. He dried me off, still holding me in his arms. I picked up my clothes, putting them on quickly and Aaron did the same. “Are you tired?” he asked gently. I nodded. He pulled me into the bedroom, laying down with me on the bed. I tucked myself under his chin and curled into his chest.

He hummed, clearly comfortable in our arrangement. My eyelids felt heavy. My breathing slowed, falling deep and even as I slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

I woke up a few hours later, rolling to check the time. _9:03am._ I heard noise coming from the kitchen. I got up, stretching and padding out of the room, down the hall. I saw Aaron moving around my kitchen, food frying in one of my pans. “Morning,” I announced, moving to him to kiss him.

He smiled, “morning. How’d you sleep?”

I opened the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water. “Good enough. If you weren’t here, I would already be drinking,” I said jokingly.

“Good thing I’m here then, huh?” he joked back.

I looked at the stove, seeing eggs and bacon cooking in the pan. “Where’d you get the eggs and bacon?” I asked him, confused. I didn’t keep food like that normally because of cases.

“I woke up early and went to the store because you didn’t have any food in there,” he replied, gesturing towards the fridge. I went to the pan and flipped the eggs, letting them fry on the other side. I moved off, letting him take the cooking back over. I pulled two plates out of the cupboard. He put two eggs on my plate and two eggs on his, splitting the bacon between us. I gave him a fork before sitting my plate on the counter to start eating. “You don’t have a dining table?” he asked, confused.

I shook my head, swallowing my food, “no need for one. I’m almost never here and either way no one ever stays here beside me. I just eat on the couch or stand and eat.” His eyebrows raised, finding that weird but accepting it. He stood on the other side of the counter, eating his food. I took a drink of my water, smirking at him.

“What are you smirking at?” he asked.

I thought about it for a second before replying, “I actually don’t know. Just being an idiot.” He chuckled, taking another bite of his food. I returned to my food, scarfing the rest of it.

“Wow. It’s like you haven’t eaten in days,” he said, surprised at my fast eating. I washed my dish in the sink before sliding it into the dishwasher.

“I haven’t,” I joked. He stilled beside me, looking at me with a serious expression on his face. “I was joking, boss,” I said, chuckling, “lighten up. It’s just an old habit from my teenage and college years.” He looked confused so I decided to explain. “When I was still living with my dad, he usually restricted my calorie intake. He liked keeping me weak so I couldn’t fight back. When I moved out and started in college, I worked through meals every day. I usually ate around 7-10 meals a week. Skip breakfast and lunch and just eat dinner. I wasn’t much of an eater until I got to the academy,” I informed his. He nodded; his emotions masked in impassivity. I took his plate out of his hand when he moved to wash it in the sink, cleaning it myself.

“You worked through meals in college? How did you manage to make it through?” he asked.

I let out a small laugh, “it wasn’t hard boss. You get used to it. It was just my normal and I needed to study anyways.”

He chuckled, moving to grab me from behind, pulling me into him. “I bet you weren’t much of a studier. Probably partied all the time,” he said, laughing.

I looked up, glaring, “I had a drinking problem and wasn’t very social. I studied my ass off so I wouldn’t have to move back home.” My mood was starting to sour at his comment. I didn’t like it when people joked about me being lazy. He sensed the slight change, He let go of me, turning me around. He leaned down, sealing his lips over mine, his tongue claiming my mouth. He moved back, letting us get air. He moved down, picking me up and throwing me over his shoulder. “Hey! What the hell, Aaron!” I exclaimed, laughing. He tossed me on the bed, moving on top of me. I took this as a challenge, trying to push him off. “I’m going to win, asshat,” I told him, determination in my voice.

“Is that a challenge, sweetheart?” he asked me, the question rhetorical. I found a hole in his grip, using it to flip us over, pushing him down against the bed. He hooked his leg behind my back, flipping us again. His hands found my wrists quickly, pinning them above my head. I thrashed, trying to get away, laughing. I finally stopped, tired and conceding to his hold. He gave me a wolfish grin, “I believe I win.” I rolled my eyes, still laughing. He leaned down, kissing my neck, biting the skin softly in order to leave a mark. His breath was warm, his mouth at my neck, “call me an asshat again, and I’ll punish you, sweetheart.” It was a threat. I smirked, wanting to defy him.

“Oh yeah?” I asked, defiance clear in my voice and face.

“Mhmm… I wouldn’t push it, especially considering you told me you enjoyed pain,” he declared. He was pushing me, trying to get a rise out of me. We both knew it.

“Don’t you have a kid, boss?” I asked, trying my best to distract him.

He grinned, “yes I do. He’s with his cousins this weekend. That means I have time.” I let out a breath, biting my bottom lip. “Now, are you going to play nice or do I need to prove my dominance by reddening your ass?” he asked, teasing me. I let out a small scoff, thinking about it. “Well?”

I grinned at him. “I’ll play nice for now, never know when it will be good leverage,” I declared.

“Is that so?” he questioned. I just nodded, a smirk clear on my face.

“How do you still have the energy to do anything sexual? I wouldn’t have thought you would have had such a high libido,” I said, groaning slightly. His fingers dug into my wrists and hip, holding me tight.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, “I won’t be mad if you say yes after the night we had.”

I smiled, happy he was still being a team player. “If you don’t mind, I’m not in the mood to fuck you right now,” I responded. He let go of my wrists, chuckling.

“I actually have to get some things done today. Work and housework, like the productive son of a bitch I am,” I said, leaning up. He moved, picking up his clothes that were laying on top of his go bag, packing them inside. He moved, kissing me on the cheek. I got up, walking him to the living room, watching him pull on his shoes. I walked him to the door, “see you Monday or earlier, boss.”

He moved outside into the hallway, “see you then, Benson.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hotch is kinda sweet tho. Comments are always nice. Thanks for reading, kind stranger.


	12. Headspace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know. I suck at these. More nightmares, more wholesome Hotch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: abuse, rape, bullying, blood, homophobia. The norm for this fic. Discretion is advised. 
> 
> I hope this chapter is ok. It's better towards the end. It gets smutty at the end because why not (it's 2am, leave me alone). Happy reading, kind stranger.

“Discussion is an exchange of knowledge; an argument an exchange of ignorance.”  
-Robert Quillen

* * *

I felt a tap on my shoulder. I looked over, finding JJ standing there. “New case?” I asked, standing.

“Yeah, get the others,” she said, moving quickly through the office.

“Hey Morgan, Reid, Prentiss, we have a new case,” I announced to the others in the bullpen, taking quick strides to the round table room. I entered, sitting in the first available chair, taking a pen out of the inside pocket of my suit jacket. The others walked into the room, sitting down and waiting for the case overview to start.

Garcia entered the room, her high heels clicking on the floor as she walked, clearly in a hurry. “Today,” she said, her words coming out quick in her normal Garcia fashion, “we are needed in Asheville, North Carolina. The bodies of three men have been found in churches all over the city.” I opened my file, looking at the crime scene photos.

“Any obvious connections to the churches and the victims?” I asked.

“Not in the way you would think. All these men are gay,” Garcia explained.

_Great. A serial killer hate crime. Fucking wonderful._

“A hate crime or another man confused by his own sexuality,” Rossi threw out.

I nodded, agreeing with the sentiment. “Looks like they had their throats cut,” I said, reading the M.E. report. I knew that the M.E. report would be updated when we went to the morgue later. The C.O.D usually never changed though.

“We need to get down to Asheville, wheels up in 30,” Hotch announced. I got up, getting ready to fly to North Carolina.

* * *

I sat on the jet next to Morgan, listening to Reid give out statistical data like it was no tomorrow. Garcia was on the screen in front of us, listening to Reid ramble. “Reid,” Hotch said, needing him to stop talking. Reid quieted, returning his focus to the file in his lap.

“What do you got, baby girl?” Morgan asked, getting the briefing started.

“So, from what little I have gathered, all three men were involved in Christianity, all at different churches. They weren’t open about it, though, two of them married to women,” Garcia informed us.

“Any obvious signs of abuse or visits to a conversion camp? Maybe religious counseling?” I asked, knowing that could be a solid lead.

“Um… all three went to therapy in different areas under different therapists. I haven’t looked at medical records yet,” she said, typing on her keyboard.

Hotch sighed, “what about financial records, Garcia?”

She kept typing, clearly focused on her screens, “nothing weird on the surface, captain, but I will keep looking.” Hotch shot her a confused look before looking back down at his file.

We landed a few minutes later, stepping onto the tarmac and getting into SUVs. Hotch was driving, Emily and Reid in the back. A little while later we were stepping into the local PD, moving quickly to get started. Hotch started the introductions when we approached the chief, “Chief, I’m Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, these are agents Morgan, Rossi, Dr. Reid, Prentiss, Jareau, and Benson. Is there a room we can set up? We need to get started.” The chief shook Hotch’s hand, gesturing to the conference room down the hall.

“You can set up in there.”

All of us walked into the room, setting up shop. “Reid, Morgan, you will go check out the latest dump site. Prentiss and Rossi will go to the M.E. and hear what they have to say. Benson, JJ, you will be with me, interviewing the families of the victims. I nodded, exiting the room with JJ to contact the victim’s families.

The line rang and after a few seconds a woman picked up on the other end. “Hello,” she said. She sounded like she had been crying.

“Hi, Mrs. Davis? My name is Special Agent Reese Benson, I’m with the FBI. We need you to come down to the local police station and answer a few questions about your son’s death,” I explained to her, trying to sound as gentle as possible.

I heard her sniffle, her voice shaking when she replied, “yes, I’ll be there in a few minutes, thank you.”

I hung up, walking back in the conference room. Hotch was looking at the crime scene photos on the evidence board when I came back. “I called Mrs. Davis, she’s coming in now, boss,” I informed him. He nodded, focused on the board. I looked back, seeing the hallway was empty. “Can I have my knife back, boss?”

He glanced at me before returning his gaze to the board, “what do you need it for?”

I shrugged. “It was a gift from a good friend, boss. I would like it back.” He just nodded.

JJ came back into the room. “The Jackson family and the Martinez family are on their way,” she said, moving to study the case file. I started pinning a map on the board.

A few minutes later an officer came into the room, “the Jackson family is here to speak with you, sir.”

I looked at Hotch before nodding at the officer, “thank you.” I saw Hotch remove something in his inside jacket pocket before holding his hand out to me. I reached and took what was in his hand. _My knife is back in my hands._

“Thanks, Hotch.” He looked at me, eyes serious.

“You need to promise me you aren’t going to start hurting yourself again,” he ordered.

I ran my fingers over the black casing, my eyes fixed on the engraving. “I swear to you, Hotch, I will do my best to stay clean,” I told him, deadly serious. He nodded, accepting my statement.

“We need to interview to families. You will be with me,” he spoke aloud, pointing at me.

* * *

“Mrs. Jackson, were you aware that Gavin was homosexual?” I asked the crying woman in front of me.

_It looks like she got hit by a damn bus. Sheesh._

She nodded, trying to stop her tears from falling. “We were aware when he came out to us in high school. We decided to get him some help with the local priest who did counseling specifically for gay children,” she explained, her voice shaky. She was trying her best to compose herself. I passed her a box of tissues.

Hotch spoke up from behind me, “do you know what they did to Gavin in those sessions, ma’am? Did it ever seem harmful to Gavin or his mental state?” She looked up from the tissue, shooting us a quizzical look before shaking her head.

The man beside her spoke this time, “we wanted Gavin to overcome that phase of his life. We would never do anything to jeopardize him.” I analyzed the man’s body language and face, looking for any signs that he might be with holding information or telling us lies. The man was Gavin’s stepfather. He was bald, slightly taller than me. He was muscular and clearly took pride in himself. _Bastard._

“Why did his so called ‘phase’ alarm you so much?” I asked, keeping emotion out of my voice.

The man eyed me, thinking about what to say. “Because we don’t want him to go to hell for being a faggot!” he sneered. _Well this just got interesting._ Mrs. Jackson started sobbing again, unable to control herself. I looked back at Hotch before stepping out of the room to regroup with the others who had made it back while we had started the interviews. I walked into the conference room, trying to bite my tongue from yelling at the bigot that was Gavin’s stepfather.

“What did you guys find out?” I asked, crossing the room to stand next to Reid.

“The unsub probably has some remorse for the men he killed. He posed the bodies after death. It’s most likely that these aren’t normal hate crimes and are more so people he can identify with, leading me to believe he is most likely struggling with his own sexual orientation,” Reid ranted. I looked at the board again, trying to find more links between the victims. I stood there, deep in thought for a few minutes, pulling any connection I could together.

JJ came to join us a few minutes later, walking up to me and tapping me on the shoulder. “How did your interview go?” she asked.

I rolled my eyes, bringing my hand up to pinch the bridge of my nose. “Mr. Jackson managed to use a slur within the first few minutes of conversation, so that’s fun,” I said sarcastically.

_Lord, I need to cut. I finally have my damn knife back, too. I shouldn’t risk it here though. I’ll try and bunk with Reid if we have to pair up, then I’ll be able to get away with it._

_**“Disgusting faggot. You’re such a pathetic little bitch, huh Reese? Always doing something normal people would never even consider You’re fucking worthless.”** _

My father’s words rung clear in the back of my head. Painful memories were pouring out to the surface of my mind. I remembered the screaming. The pain. His hands on me. His words and his breath. My eyes flew open, revealing the evidence board in front of me. _Damn it. That damn bastard._

* * *

I stood in the lobby of the hotel, waiting for Hotch to give us our room keys and give us the run down on how the sleeping arrangements were working. Hotch walked over to where all of us were waiting, talking with each other about the case. “We have to double up,” he explained. Morgan groaned, clearly hoping he won’t get put with Reid. JJ and Emily were already heading up to their room as they were the only females they were together automatically.

“I have a singular private room. Rossi or Morgan can have it. Reid can pair with whoever is left out of you two and I’ll pair with Reese,” Hotch announced. _Damn it. How the hell will I manage to cut now?_ I started walking towards the elevator to wait for the others. I started to formulate a plan about how to cut and get away with it. I didn’t want to break my promise, but I needed to reset. _I need it. I need to cut. I need it._ I felt need coil inside me. Guilt settled in my gut, even at the thought of being dishonest to Hotch.

The other three joined me at the bank of elevators. Reid hit the call button. One opened and we stepped inside, Hotch hitting a button on the panel. I leaned against the cold metal wall, trying to remain impassive. I followed Hotch when the elevator doors opened, stepping into a hotel room and flopping down onto the first available bed. Aaron laughed, clearly enjoying being close to me. “Do you want to shower first or me?” he asked, setting his go bag by the far-left bed.

“I should or I will fall asleep before taking one,” I told him, opening my bag and grabbing some clothes to sleep in. I walked into the bathroom and turned on the water, stripping while it got warm. I took the knife out of my pocket, pondering what to do. _No. No. You need to stay clean. You need to keep your promise._ I took the knife into the shower with me, setting it on one of the ledges. I cleaned myself quickly, returning my focus to the knife. I opened the blade, setting the sharp edge against my thigh. I cut myself once before hesitating. _No. No we need this. I need to cut. Fuck. Just cut. Just do it_. I cut the water off, stepping out of the shower and dropping the knife to the floor. I started shaking, anxiety working its way up my spine. I put on some boxers before opening the door to the bathroom, sliding to the floor next to the shower. I stared at the knife a few feet away. I saw Aaron in the doorway, his gaze moving from me to the knife then back to me.

“Reese?” he asked tentatively. My eyes stayed focused on the knife, my hands gripping my legs. I felt my fingernails dig into my flesh. “Reese!” Aaron tried again. I didn’t want to look at him, shame and guilt overwhelming me. He picked me up, moving me out of the room and sitting me on my bed. I sat there, shaking, trying to force words out of my mouth. No words would come out even though I felt like I was screaming them. “Did you cut yourself?” Aaron asked gently.

I nodded, before stuttering a response, “j-just o-once.” I lifted the leg of my boxers to reveal a small, then cut that was barely bleeding. “I almost broke my promise to you because I’m a fucking broken, worthless piece of garbage,” I said through gritted teeth, my voice broken.

A look of pain crossed his face before he moved me into his lap, stroking my hair. “You are not worthless, Reese. You stopped before you could continue. That’s what matters,” he murmured, his lips in my hair. I felt so guilty. **_“Worthless twink.”_** The memories of abuse surged forward, my body shaking violently. “Do you want to talk about it?” Aaron asked, concerned. I nodded. _I need to talk. I need to move forward. I need to do something._

“When we interviewed the families today,” I began, “the slur and the hostility brought back some unwanted memories from my youth and I just…” I couldn’t take it. Numbness began spreading. _Depression is returning. An old friend._ Aaron began rocking me in his arms, his hand still stroking my hair. I felt numb. _I wish I was dead. I just wish the bastard had killed me._ I closed my eyes, trying to find any emotion inside myself but coming up empty. I had nothing left. He always took everything away from me, no matter how hard I tried to push forward and forget.

“Are you going to punish me?” I asked, quiet and devoid of emotion. I was monotone and deadpan. My face was emotionless to match the thoughts within me. I could tell Aaron was connecting the dots, understanding why I asked him the question.

“No. No I am not going to punish you for this. You stopped yourself and came to me,” he told me. I believed him, although a part of me still coiled up in fear. My eyes were blank, almost dead. I could sense Aaron’s sadness and pain at the thought of my abuse and reasoning behind why I lived the way I did. I pulled away from him, striding to where my bag sat on the floor. I pulled on some shorts and a shirt, pocketing my wallet. “Where are you going?” he asked, clearly confused.

“To get a drink,” I replied, striding out the door, clicking it shut behind me. I rode down the elevator, walking to a gas station down the street. I bought a case of beer. Anything would do. I also bought a few sodas and some water if I wanted to drink something else devoid of alcohol. When I returned to the room, I heard Aaron in the shower. I opened the case of beer, popping the lid open and taking a long draft of the cold liquid. I sat on the floor, back against the bed. I popped my headphones in my ears, playing a piece of music. Appalachian Spring. It was a favorite of mine from my days in college. I would listen to it while I studied all day and night. I looked at the can in my hand, getting up and replacing it with a Dr. Pepper. Another old favorite of mine.

I heard the bathroom door open and Aaron stepped out, looking at me drinking a soda on the floor. He looked at the nightstand, eyeing the open but practically full can of beer. I felt hollow. Like I was just nothing. Invisible. He walked over and took a water from the plastic shopping bag, sitting down on the floor next to me. He took a headphone from my ear and stuck it in his, listening to the beautiful piece of music emitting from it. I sighed, taking another drink of my soda. _My life fucking blows._

“I listened to classical all the time in college. I found it relaxing when I studied for my classes,” I said quietly.

He took a drink of his water, “what’s the name of this piece?”

I glanced at him. “Appalachian Spring. My music teacher in high school introduced me to it. She was a great teacher,” I said, giving him a weak smile, fond of the memory of my music teacher. I always connected well with music. It could always explain the details of feelings when I couldn’t. “You like it?” I asked, curious.

He glanced over at me, nodding his head, “yes. I think it sounds wonderful.” I appreciated his honesty and his interest in my life and my interests.

“You like music, Aaron?” I didn’t call him Aaron unless I was begging for him to let me finish so I think he was a little taken aback by my use of his name.

“Yes, although I don’t listen to it very often,” he replied. I nodded, trying to make silent amends or something. I felt guilty for even going and buying the case of beer. I took another sip of my soda. “Did you drink the beer you bought already?” he asked, some strain in his voice. He seemed tense.

“I took a sip of one beer before switching to sugar,” I responded. I couldn’t bring myself to drink right now. I already felt guilty enough about trying to cut. I was so tired and so numb. I picked myself up off the floor, tossing my Dr. Pepper into the small trashcan by the dresser. “I really need to go to sleep,” I mumbled, feeling exhausted by the events that had taken place in the last few hours. I curled into a tight ball on top of the comforter, not bothering to get under the sheets. I closed my eyes, trying to force myself into unconsciousness. I just laid with my eyes shut for a long while, sleep eventually overtaking me.

* * *

**_*6 years earlier*_ **

  
_I laid on the cold floor, my body limp from lack of sleep and hunger. My lip and nose were bleeding onto the tiles floor. My left eye swollen shut. My head was throbbing, pain radiating throughout my entire body. Everything felt heavy. Everything felt painful. I wanted to lay there forever. I felt myself getting yanked up by my collar, my back and head slamming against a locker._

_My body felt limp, only standing because of the lockers and the person pinning me there. **I’m in so much pain. I just want the pain to end. I want this to end. Please just end. Please just end, please.** A slap brought me back to reality, the sting burning into my cheek. My head lolled against the locker, my right eye looking at my aggressor. **Sam Phillips. Evil fucking bastard. Why won’t he leave me alone? Why can’t I just be left alone? Why me? Why?**_

_“Earth to fairy!” Sam sneered. I just stared at him, too tired to speak or try and break free. I was already tired from my beating and assault last night. I had spent the majority of the night crying in my bedroom silently. His friends were laughing, taunting me along with him. I just hung there; no strength left to move. I felt pain in my stomach, my lungs struggling to take in air._

_I fell with a thud, hitting the tile floor hard. Sam kneeled next to me, continuing his taunting. “You gonna fight back fairy? Or have you finally given up?” he spat. A tear leaked from my eye, my lungs still gasping for air. Sam stood, kicking me in the back. Pain shot up my spine causing me to scream in pain. **Please just kill me. Please. Please.** His friends were laughing, commenting on my crying. Enjoying my suffering._

_Blood was pooling on the floor in front of me, my nose still bleeding. I struggled to stay awake, trying to grasp onto words. “Please,” I begged, my throat tight and dry, “please just fucking kill me.” Sam paused, his friends quieting._

_“What did you just say, queer?” Sam asked._

_“KILL ME!” I screamed with all the might I had left in me. I finally broke, crying loudly in the pool of my blood, begging for this asshole to kill me. **I just want to die. I want the suffering to stop. I want it all to stop.**_

_I registered a door opening, Mrs. Callahan stepping out of her classroom. I saw Sam and his friends take off down the hall, laughing. **This was fun for them. Torturing me was fucking fun.** “Oh my god!” Mrs. Callahan exclaimed. I heard her knock on the door of Mr. Montgomery, the chemistry teacher in the science hall. I was still crying, my tears streaking with the blood, my body and spirit broken. I felt a hand on me, I flinched trying to move away. _

_“Please just kill me,” I begged._

_“We need to get Dr. Thompson down here and the nurse,” Mr. Montgomery said, talking to Mrs. Callahan. I heard Callahan rushing to call them both, Montgomery staying with me. I thought he was talking but I couldn’t tell, my mind broken. I ignored everything going on around me._

_I saw the nurse and the principal rushing to where I was laying in the middle of the hallway. **Ding. Ding. Ding.** The bell rang and people began exiting classrooms, only ratcheting up my anxiety and fear. I heard someone telling people to get back into their classrooms, telling other teachers that there was a code blue. I heard the order go over the intercom system. I was still laying in my blood, my eyes closed. I heard a man speak to me, “kid, what’s your name? Hello? Kid?”_

_“Reese Benson,” I croaked out, my throat still tight. My ribs ached in pain._

_“Call an ambulance,” a woman ordered. I passed out, unable to keep myself awake. **I hope I’m dying.**_

* * *

I was jolted awake, Aaron standing over me, trying to snap me out of my nightmare. “Reese,” Aaron spoke loudly. I shot up in the bed, my lungs heaving for air. My throat burned; my mouth dry.

“W-water,” I croaked, reaching for the nightstand. Aaron moved quickly, opening a bottle of water, thrusting it into my hand. I gulped the water down, trying to regain my composure. Fear was still looming over me.

“Are you alright?” Aaron asked me pointedly. I shrugged, unable to string a thought or sentence together. I sat there, trying to breathe correctly.

Eventually I spoke again, “I don’t know if I’m okay. It was a memory. I was reliving a memory,” I explained, my voice breaking towards the end. I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to think about it anymore. _Why can’t I move on? Why is this happening?_

“Do you have nightmares this often normally?” Aaron asked.

I shook my head, “not usually.” I reached out for him, letting him embrace me. I pulled him down to sit on the bed next to me. Something sparked inside me. _Need. I need him._ I pushed forward, kissing him fiercely. I caught him by surprise, but he quickly took the kiss over. I broke away, panting, “please.” I wanted him to reclaim me. I wanted him to take me out of my head.

“Do you want me to take over?” he asked, his own breath coming out in pants. I nodded, whimpering out of need. He grinned, moving to pull me into his lap. He shifted, sitting against the headboard, settling me in between his legs. His hand moved down to rub my thighs, massaging me. I tensed up, need straining inside me. One of his arms was wrapped against my chest, holding me in place. I was tightly gripping the comforter beneath us, anticipation making me tense. “Relax, sweetheart,” Aaron coaxed. I relaxed a little, my thigh muscles loosening. My legs were stretched out, his over top of mine so I couldn’t move them. “Do you have a safe word?” he asked, his lips moving to kiss my neck.

I shook my head, “no. Never needed one.”

He moved up my neck, his mouth leaving kisses along the expanse of flesh. “I need you to choose a word you associate with power and strength. Whenever you get too worked up and want me to stop what I’m doing, you can say your safe word and I will immediately stop. Understand?” he asked in a low voice. I nodded. “I need you to tell me you understand, baby boy,” he asserted. I swallowed, hardening at the nickname and the tone he used when it left his mouth.

“I understand. So, do I… just like… choose?” I asked, still somewhat confused as to what to do.

“Yes, just choose,” he told me, still trailing kisses along my neck, nipping at the sensitive spot behind my ear.

I let out a small moan. “Copland. He composed Appalachian Spring,” I said, my voice breathy from Aaron’s onslaught.

“Good choice, sweetheart. You’re doing such a good job already,” he whispered in my ear. I let out a breath, becoming aroused quickly. He was right, I did enjoy being praised. His hand glided across my skin, heading north to cup my balls. I tensed up for a second before relaxing again. “Lift your ass up and slide your boxers off,” he ordered quietly. I complied, completing the task quickly. “Good boy,” he praised. I was fully erect, aroused by literally everything Aaron was doing to me. He gently squeezed my balls, making me groan. I whimpered, shifting around a little, need coursing through me. Aaron chuckled, “patience, sweetheart.” I tried to still myself, finding it somewhat difficult. His fingers brushed my cock, teasing me. I bit my bottom lip, resisting the urge to buck my cock into his hands. “Do you want me to touch your cock, sweetheart? You want me to pleasure you?” he asked in a teasing tone.

“Yes, please, I need you, please,” I begged him. He grinned, his hand squeezing the tip of my cock. I let out a low moan, trying to be quiet. I didn’t want to wake up the people on the other side of the wall. His hand moved up and down my shaft at a leisurely pace, taking his time. He was praising me quietly the entire time. His hand on my chest tweaked my nipple, making me yelp. He chuckled, the sound warm. I found myself enjoying his voice. It was soothing after the day I had, letting it take me out of my fucked-up thoughts.

“You don’t have to ask for permission to cum tonight, you’ve been good,” he murmured. _Thank god._

“P-please… faster, please,” I begged him, needing him to move faster. He complied, moving his hand faster. I was so aroused I was nearly at climax.

Aaron was still talking to me, praising me. His voice was low, “there you go, sweetheart. I want you to cum for me. Cum in my hand like a good boy.” I came, my toes curling from the pleasure of my climax. I sagged against him, my body going lax. His hand was sticky with my seamen, bringing his hand to his mouth. He licked his hand, groaning his approval. _I guess I taste good._ I let out a rough laugh, finding that funny in my post orgasmic state. He brought his fingers to my mouth, “open.” I sucked on his fingers, cleaning my ejaculate off his fingers. “You were such a good boy,” he whispered in my ear. I felt comfortable. He reached to the nightstand, grabbing some water and handing it to me, “drink.” I complied, drinking some of the water and handing it back to him. “Do you want me to sleep with you?” he asked me, his hand in my hair.

“Yes, please,” I replied, wanting to be close to him.

“Ok, let me move us under the covers,” he said. I got up, picking up and putting my boxers back on while he turned down the sheets. I slid into bed, tucking into him. I was warm, relaxed. I exhaled, content with his form of comforting me. I tried to stay awake but lost the battle, falling asleep quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The cases are bad, I know. Comments are always nice. Thanks for reading, kind stranger.


	13. Case Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reese and the team work through a case, trying to stop an unsub on a spree. Reese gets a call and must return to his hometown to face the man who haunts his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: I don't really know but I'm still gonna warn you. Just be careful. 
> 
> The cases might suck but I'm only using them because 1. I have to, it's criminal minds and 2. I use them to help bring new pieces in the storyline. I understand they aren't the best.  
> Errors will be fixed later. Happy reading, kind stranger.

“To live is to suffer, to survive is to find some meaning in the suffering.”  
-Friedrich Nietzsche

* * *

  
I opened my eyes, revealing the ceiling of my hotel room. I searched the bed with my hand, finding it empty. I rolled over, glancing at the time on my phone. _7:22am._ “SHIT!” I exclaimed, practically jumping out of bed. I snatched my phone off the nightstand, dialing Hotch while scrambling to get clothes on. I dug in my go bag, grabbing a purple polo and black jeans.

“Hotchner.”

I propped the phone on the vanity in the bathroom, putting it on speaker. “Oh my god, Hotch, I am so sorry. I’ll be down at the PD in a few minutes. My alarm didn’t go off and you didn’t wake me up. Fuck, I’m so sorry,” I said, rambling.

“Benson,” Hotch interjected, “it’s ok. I was going to call you if you weren’t up in a few minutes anyways. You had a rough night.”

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. I massaged my temples, still stressed out by being late. I didn’t want to come off as lazy. “What the fuck, Hotch,” I muttered. That was all I had. He let out a small laugh. I pulled my jeans on, buckling my belt. I pulled the polo over my head.

“What? Do you want me to yell at you instead?” he asked, clearly amused by how flustered I was.

“NO,” I said quickly, “please just… wake me up early next time. We have coffee, you know?” I could tell he was smirking.

_I may be tired, but I’m still a profiler, boss._

“Can you stop smirking and enjoying my stress, boss?” I asked incredulously.

He chuckled at that, “No thanks.” I grinned, lacing my boots. I moved into the main room, grabbing my gun and holster out of my nightstand, securing them to my belt. I sild my badge into my right front pocket. I strode to the sink, turning on the water and starting to brush my teeth.

I spit into the sink, "I’ll be there in a few minutes, boss.” I hung up, finishing the task at hand. I made sure I had everything before walking out the door and going back to work.

* * *

“What do we got?” I asked, striding into the conference room holding a cup of coffee in my hand.

“A whole lot of nothing, that’s what we got,” Rossi grumbled. He was clearly upset about how much we had.

I grimaced, knowing how bad that would be when we had an unsub going on a spree. I sighed, taking a sip of my coffee. “Did Garcia find anything in the financial records?” I asked.

Reid spoke this time, “no. There wasn’t anything linking our victims together.” I cursed under my breath.

I heard the door of the conference room open, Hotch striding inside with the police chief. “We have a lead,” the chief announced. All of us turned to face him, listening intently.

“A witness placed a man at the third dump site,” Hotch explained, “she said he was about 5’9, white, black hair, scrawny, about 20-25 years old.” _Great._ _A huge demographic of people._

“We know this unsub is struggling with his sexuality. Maybe he knew all of the victims from their churches?” I offered as a theory, “is she sitting with a sketch artist?”

The chief nodded, “yeah, she’s in with the sketch artist right now.”

_That’s a start. Where else could they have met? There must be someplace they could have met._

“We should go to the churches within the unsubs comfort zone and give them this sketch, Hotch,” Morgan said. Hotch nodded in agreement. “How many churches are located in the unsubs comfort zone?”

Reid thought for a second before the number came out of his mouth, “24.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, “and we only have to find one. Should be easy.” I was becoming sarcastic out of pure stress. Reid went to the map and started explaining how to canvass the best to the chief. _This seems so familiar and connected in some way. How did the unsub meet these guys?_ “How could the unsub have met these men? You don’t just get lucky this many times,” I said, incredulous.

“Reese is right. You don’t just get three men who were gay and trying to be straight that easily. They would have had to trust this guy to tell them that about themselves,” Morgan summed up, “I mean two were even married.”

A thought struck me. “What about help groups or something? Like what if these churches had groups for other men to help kids in their same position?” I asked, feeling like I had actually contributed something for once. **_“Useless little bitch boy. All your good for is being used.”_ **I tried to push the unwanted words out of my head.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Garcia. “Office of supreme genius, how can I assist thee?” Garcia said cheerily.

“Hey G, can you see if our victims were leaders or involved in youth programs at churches? Specifically, for gay teens,” I said quickly.

I heard her typing on her keyboard. “Plus one point for our very own Reese Benson. There are a few church groups in the area for gay teens to ‘turn back to god.’ They don’t have any lists of members, but I have already sent the church addresses and info to your phones.”

“Let’s go,” Hotch said.

I picked up my phone, rushing out the door, “thanks Garcia, you’re the best.”

I heard her typing again, “no problem sugar! Garcia out.”

I hit the door, pushing it so Morgan wouldn’t get smacked when he walked through. “Benson, Morgan, and Prentiss, you should take the first church. Rossi and Reid will be with me, we’ll take the second. I nodded, getting in the back of a black SUV with Morgan at the wheel. _Please dear god help me, Morgan’s driving._ We sped out of the PD parking lot, trying to get ahead of all the traffic.

* * *

We arrived at the church in about 10 minutes, exiting the car and moving into the lobby. I pulled my badge out of my pocket, flashing it to the receptionist in the office. “We need to see the head priest or minister, now,” I ordered. The woman nodded, picking up her phone to call the head minister. I looked around the room. The floor was a light hard wood and the walls were painted white. There was a wooden cross hanging above a small seating area. There were a few chairs and a table with Christian magazines.

“I’ll take you agents to the minister now,” the woman said, standing from her chair and moving around the desk.

She led us down a long hallway, opening a door on the right side of the hall. We stepped into a small office, an older man sitting behind his desk, a planner open on top of it. He stood as we entered, stepping towards us extending his hand, “I’m Pastor Jack Davenport. How may I help you agents?” I looked at Morgan and Emily, taking a spot by the door to observe and read the man’s behavior.

Emily started, “Pastor, we are investigating the local murders that have happened here in the last few weeks. Were you aware of them?”

He took a seat, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the desk. “Yes, I am. They were very sad. We started a collection for the families of the victims last week,” he informed us. Emily nodded, writing that down in her notebook.

“Sir, do the names Tom Davis, Gavin Jackson, or Enrique Martinez ring a bell?” Morgan asked.

The pastor thought about it for a few moments, racking his brain for any sort of familiarity in the names. “No, I don’t believe so,” he replied a moment later. He seemed calm, confident. I studied his body language.

“Do you have groups here for gay youth?” Emily asked, still writing in her notebook.

Davenport nodded, opening his desk drawer to retrieve something out of it. He pulled out a white three-ring binder, handing it to Morgan. “We have groups that meet once a week for gay teens. We have other men and women that turned away from that lifestyle speak to them and try and help them through their struggles. A few other churches in the area participate with us, but we host it,” he explained. Slight anger rushed through me, but I held my tongue trying to stay calm and impassive. _People don’t just stop being gay, they simply hide it better._ He gestured to the binder, “inside that is a list of all the churches that collaborate with us and their leaders. We keep track of the leaders for the safety of the teens, but we don’t keep lists of who attends.” Emily kept writing, nodding. I was struggling to stay silent. I wanted to start an argument, but I knew that would only come back to bite me in the ass later. _More like get my ass beat._

I took my phone out of my pocket, showing him the sketch, the witness had sat down to make with the sketch artist. “This man look familiar to you? He’s in his early to mid-20s. He is probably not a leader, but rather an attendee. He would be shyer, probably asks a lot of questions, talks about purity and god a lot,” I said, letting Davenport take a better look at the photo.

He shook his head, “I bet there is someone like that, but no one specific comes to mind. A lot of kids are shy and quiet when they come to group.”

I looked at Morgan, silently asking if he was finished asking questions. He nodded and stepped out of the office into the hallway to call Hotch while the other two finished up. I was stepping into the parking lot when Hotch answered. “Hotchner,” he said, his voice echoing slightly. “Hey Hotch. We just finished up here. The pastor that directs the program says that other churches participate in this program and that he doesn’t know anyone who matches the description of the unsub. He didn’t know the victims either,” I informed him.

“Alright, we are almost finished here. The pastor here says that he knew Gavin Jackson and that he was a leader, but he didn’t know the other two men. He couldn’t think of anyone that matched the description of the unsub,” Hotch told me. I heard a door open behind me, Prentiss and Morgan talking among one another as they approached the SUV.

“What do you want us to do now Hotch?” I asked.

The line was silent for a few seconds besides background noise. “Go back to local PD and get Garcia to run every single leaders’ sheet. I want to know as much as possible about the people attending these groups,” he ordered.

“On it, boss.” I hung up, climbing into the back seat of the SUV.

* * *

I was sifting through sheets of paper, making piles of possible unsubs and those that didn’t fit the description of the unsub. The door opened behind me, Reid, Rossi, and Hotch stepping inside. “How’s it going?” Rossi asked, moving to sit at the table.

“It’s going,” I responded, still focused on the task at hand. I pointed to a stack of papers, “these are people that could be the unsub or have a criminal record.” Reid picked them up, looking at each of them.

“Anyone seem like a better suspect than others?” Hotch asked.

I shook my head, pursing my lips in frustration. “Just keep going,” Rossi said, somewhat resigned to the slow process we were making.

The police chief entered the room in a rush, “we have another body.”

I stopped what I was doing, standing. Hotch stopped me, “no. Reid and Benson will stay here and continue going over the possible unsubs. As for the rest of you, let’s go.” They were all up and moving. I sat back down, going back to the piles of paper in front of me, Reid joining me. I sat there, sifting through all the papers matching the criteria to the description of our unsub.

“Are you ok?” Reid asked, his gazed fixed on the pieces of paper in his hands.

“What do you mean?” I asked, still going through all the papers, moving some into the stack in front of me.

“You’ve been kind of off the last few weeks and I wanted to make sure you were alright. Hotch said you had a rough night last night when we asked where you were,” Reid elaborated.

I stilled for a moment, absorbing Reid’s words. “Did he now?” I said, my voice low, “well, he’s right, I did. But I’m alright. Life is just a little rough right now, that’s all.” I kept working for a few minutes, both of us silent, the only noise in the room the shuffling of papers. “You seen anything yet?” I asked. _I’ve still got nothing. None of these people scream “I killed three people!”_

“Maybe. Look at this guy,” Reid said, extending his hand out to give me the piece of paper in his hand.

I took it from him, reading it quickly. “Wow. Assault charges and public disturbances. Could be our guy,” I told him, agreeing, “Mark Woodland.” I pulled out my phone, calling Garcia.

“Speak and be heard, mortal,” Garcia said.

“Hey Garcia, can you give the run down on a suspect?” I asked.

“Sure can do. Name?” she asked, typing on her keyboard.

“Mark Woodland,” I murmured. I heard typing on the other side of the line.

A moment later she spoke again, summarizing any data she could her eyes on. “Mark Woodland, 20 years old, a student at the University of Asheville. Major in philosophy… says here he has been under review for and I quote, ‘harassing and defacing LGBTQ+ students and their movements.’ Not good,” she responded.

“Address?” I said, gesturing for Reid to call Hotch.

“1434 Lee Avenue. Anything else I can do you for?” she asked, still typing.

“I need to know if he is a member of any church groups or hate groups, anything and everything that can connect him to our victims,” I said, standing, “and one more thing. You’re great Garcia, never change.”

I could tell she was smiling. “Will do. Garcia out.”

I picked up the picture and sheet with Woodland’s information on it, pinning it to the evidence board. Reid put his phone on speaker, Hotch on the other side of the line. “Hotch, we have a possible unsub and an address. All we need now is a search warrant or probable cause,” I explained, my words coming out fast. _This ones a race against the clock. He sped up the time of killing._

“I’ll get the warrant. The unsub was in a hurry this time. He left the murder weapon this time,” Hotch informed us.

“He’s making mistakes,” Reid said, concentrating on that piece of information.

“I’ll put a rush on the knife and hopefully we will get a hit. If not Woodland, someone else,” Hotch said. I heard a car door slam shut and the engine starting. “We will meet you back at the station and regroup,” Hotch said before hanging up.

Reid and I sat there, finishing the search of other possible suspects and stacking them accordingly. “Woodland is our best bet. Let’s hope that he is the unsub and that he doesn’t hurt anyone else,” I said with a sigh.

* * *

The rest of the team arrived a few minutes later, talking among each other while they entered. Hotch cleared his throat, quieting the conversations we were having with each other. “Right now, we have possible unsub. The lab has a rush on the knife. I want to know what we know so far in case this suspect and lead doesn’t pan out,” he announced, expecting points to be thrown out.

“We know that he is young, impressionable, shy. Most likely a student or intern somewhere,” I replied, waiting for someone else to pick up where I left off.

“He is comfortable within this area, meaning he most likely lives here. It surrounds the University of Asheville and the churches that collaborate with each other in the conversion program, meaning he most likely met our 4 victims there,” Reid explained, his words rushed like he was beginning to ramble. I looked at the map and the geographical profile Reid has drawn up. _Damn genius._

I heard a phone ring, Morgan taking it out of his pocket and reading the caller ID, “hey baby girl, give me some good news.” Morgan just nodded, absorbing what Garcia was saying. He thanked her and hung up.

“What did Garcia tell you, chocolate thunder?” I asked in a mocking tone.

He shot me a glare before relaying the information Garcia told him, “we have a hit. Mark Woodland.”

Hotch stood and we all stood with him, moving to get into the SUVs, “let’s go. Chief, bring your men.”

I climbed into the backseat of an SUV, a Kevlar vest strapped to my chest and an earpiece in my ear. We were speeding down the street, sirens blaring. Morgan got us to where we needed to be, parking quickly. I stepped out of the car, waiting for orders. Hotch moved towards us, starting to give us orders on how to approach. “This is a communal house, we need to be careful with civilians, Hotch,” Morgan said, deadly serious.

Hotch nodded, “Morgan, Rossi, Prentiss, take the back. JJ, Reid, Benson and I will take the front. Chief I need a perimeter set up around this area. No one in or out until they have identified themselves.” The Chief nodded, moving away to order his men. We began walking to our entry points, stacking by the door, waiting for the green light. “Everyone in position?” Hotch asked through his com link.

“We are all ready Hotch. Just tell us when to go,” Prentiss said.

I looked across the small area to Hotch who was standing on the opposite side of me. I nodded, ready to storm the building. Hotch put his hand by his cuff, “we go in 3, 2, 1, go.” He opened the door, giving me the go ahead to storm inside.

“FBI!” I announced loudly, clearing the room quickly. I heard Morgan and Prentiss entering through the back. “CLEAR!” I announced. Hotch and Reid entered behind me, guns drawn. I moved into another room, clearing it quickly. I looked around, trying to learn more about Woodland.

“Benson,” Hotch said, gesturing towards a staircase. I moved, stepping up swiftly and quietly. I turned, clearing both sides of the hall before gesturing for Hotch to move up with me. I began walking slowly down the left side of the hall, Hotch behind me. I stacked against one of the doors, my hand on the handle waiting for Hotch to nod that he was ready. He nodded and I opened the door, letting him in. “Clear,” he announced. We moved from door to door, clearing them quickly and efficiently. Rossi and Reid were doing that on the other side of the hallway. I stormed into one door, two men on the bed when I entered.

“FBI, put your hands where I can see them!” I ordered, my voice firm and loud. They complied immediately, terrified out of their minds. I ordered them out of the room, handing them off to some of the officers in the hallway. We cleared the house quickly, moving back downstairs. I walked outside to the cop cars that the two men were standing by. “Either of you Mark Woodland?” I asked.

“No,” the one on the left replied, “I’m Ethan Cosgrove. This is Anthony Parks.”

I nodded my understanding. “I’m SSA Reese Benson. Do either of you know where Mark is?” I asked, needing answers quickly.

“He might be at the Uni still,” Anthony spoke up.

“Does he usually stay there this late?” I asked in response.

“Yeah. Sometimes,” Ethan said.

I left them there, moving back into the house to tell Hotch. “Hotch, he might be somewhere on the university campus. He usually stays late,” I told him.

“Alright, let’s go. We need to get all his classes and clear any building that he may have a religious connection with,” Hotch replied back.

* * *

“Mark, I need you to put the gun down,” Reid said calmly, his weapon pointed at where Mark was holding me with a gun to my head.

“JUST GO AWAY! I’M TRYING TO SAVE THEM!” Mark yelled, shaking me in his grip. _Stupid son of a bitch._ I was trying to stay calm. Hotch burst into the room behind Reid, his gun drawn and moving to get a different angle of Mark.

“Mark, I know that you think that’s what you are doing but killing a federal agent will get you nowhere. If you want to spread your message, I need you to let that man go,” Reid said, pointing at me. Mark held the gun to my head, thinking about what Reid told him. I swallowed, praying I wasn’t about to get shot.

“Why should I believe you?” Mark sneered. I saw Hotch moving, trying to get an angle to shoot Mark. _Please put the gun down. Please put the gun down._

“Y-you’re a Christian, right Mark?” I asked, swallowing a breath.

“Yes, now shut up!” he screamed, hitting me in the head with the barrel of his gun.

“Mark, I’m Christian too. I understand what you are doing. You want to save people. You’re just doing what God wants,” I rambled, “I can help get your message spread. I can help you save others.”

He stilled, taking in what I had just told him. “Really?” he asked.

I nodded fiercely. _Please believe me. Please believe me._ “Please… just let me help you,” I said, praying he would put the gun down. I felt his grip on me loosen, giving me my chance. I pivoted, bringing my elbow into his abdomen before ducking and grabbing his arm, pushing the gun into the air. A shot rang in the air, a bullet flying into the ceiling. I pushed forward, tackling him and wrestling him to the floor. I pushed his head down, driving his skull into the hard tile with a resounding thud. I flipped him, resting my knee and weight into the small of his back, grabbing his arms to put him in handcuffs. “Cuffs,” I yelled, needing to restrain the now writhing man beneath me. I felt the metal being thrust into my hands. I cuffed Woodland, dragging him up with me. I started pushing him out of the room, reading him his Miranda rights. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney one will be provided for you. Do you understand these rights?” I said, pushing him outside to the waiting cop car. One of the officers opened it. “I do,” was all he said before I forced him into the back of the car, slamming the door. “Crazy bitch,” I muttered under my breath, my head throbbing.

I walked back to where my team was, stumbling slightly. “You alright kid?” Morgan asked, concerned.

I shot him a glare, “yeah. I’m just peachy.” Morgan chuckled, grinning.

“You need to be checked out by the EMTs,” Hotch said seriously. I just nodded, my hand on my head. _Damn this hurts._

“You need help getting there?” Morgan asked sarcastically. I glared again.

“Actually, that would be great. I feel like I’m about to pass the fuck out,” I snapped out, anger in my inflection. Derek’s eyebrows raised, but he put my arm around his shoulder, helping me to the ambulance.

* * *

I was in the elevator riding up to the office with the others when my phone rang. I wanted to ignore it, my head still throbbing. I yanked my phone out of my pocket, hitting the accept button and lifting it to my ear. “Benson,” I answered impassively.

“Is this Reese Benson?” the man on the other side asked.

_Who the fuck do they think it is?_

“That’s me. Who are you and what do you want?” I replied.

“We need you to come back to Knoxville. We need you to identify a body that may be your father,” he said, his voice monotone. I let out a sigh, my fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of my nose.

“Alright, I’ll be there in a few hours. I just got off of work,” I said, stepping out of the elevator and following the others into the bullpen.

“Ok, thank you, sir,” the officer said, hanging up.

I practically collapsed into my desk chair, my head banging against my desk. “FUCK!” I exclaimed, pain rolling through my body. Derek started laughing and Reid was trying to stifle a laugh. I picked my head up, putting the case file into my desk drawer. I carried my go bag up to Hotch’s office, knocking on the door and entering. I looked at him, speaking before he could get a word in, “Hotch, I have to drive down to Knoxville to ID a body. I don’t know when I’ll be back, but I’ll keep you posted,” I said, tired.

“Alright, I’ll let you know if we have a case,” he replied, returning to his paperwork.

I strode out the bullpen, preparing to go and face my past in Knoxville.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Next chapter is inspired by the episode where Morgan gets arrested, but it happens to the OC instead. Get ready.


	14. Accusations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reese gets arrested when his father turns up murdered. Hotch and the team come down to Knoxville to help him and learn painful parts of his past in the process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: abuse, rape
> 
> Happy reading! This chapter was inspired by the episode where Morgan gets arrested. i thought it was a good way to build on Reese's backstory and his relationship with Hotch and the team.

“Inaction breeds doubt and fear. Action breeds confidence and courage. If you want to conquer fear, do not sit home and think about it. Go out and get busy.”  
-Dale Carnegie

* * *

I stuck my key into the ignition, turning the motor and starting the engine. My Audi purred to life, my headlights blinking on. I sat there for a minute, preparing myself for the long drive ahead. I plugged my aux cord into my phone and hit the first playlist that intrigued me. It was a mix of my favorite songs. I put the car into reverse, backing up in the almost vacant parking lot, driving out of the academy. I kept myself focused on the road and the music, trying not to give into my tiredness. I slept a little on the jet ride home but found it hard because of my throbbing head. I pulled into a Starbucks drive-thru, ordering a few shots of espresso and an iced caramel macchiato like the basic bitch I am. I parked and enjoyed my espresso before getting back on the road. The drive was long and monotonous until I got caught up in the lively traffic of Nashville and then Knoxville. I pulled into a motel parking lot, reading the vacancy sign and getting a room. I dropped my go bag on the floor, collapsing onto the bed, absolutely exhausted. I set an alarm for 8am, falling quickly into unconsciousness.

My alarm blared in my ears, waking me up. I let out a groan, still tired. I had only gotten 4 hours of sleep, but it was better than none at all. I grabbed my toothbrush out of my bag, brushing my teeth. I splashed some water on my face in an attempt to jump start my system. I exited the room, returning the key to the front lobby and jumping in my car. I pulled into an empty parking space at the police station. I strode to the door, opening it and speaking to the officer posted at the front desk. “I need to ID a body. I was called in by one of your officers rather than the M.E., though,” I explained hastily.

The officer gave me a quizzical look. “Let me ask Sheriff Porter what this is about, sir,” he told me. I just nodded and took a seat in the small reception area. I sat there for a few minutes, my hand in my pockets. My holster was still attached to my hip and had caused some bruising from how I turned in my sleep.

“Reese are you armed?” the sheriff asked, his hand on his firearm.

I looked up at him, thoroughly confused. I wasn’t a threat to him. I was just here because I got called here. “Yes,” I said, standing to my feet, “why is that important?” He moved towards me, motioning for another officer to grab me. I moved back. “What the hell is going on here?” I demanded, somewhat frustrated as to what was going on. The officer moved forward again, grabbing my arm and turning me around. I felt metal against my wrists and heard the clicking sound of the handcuffs closing around my wrists. “What the fuck is going on, Porter?” I demanded again.

“Put him in interrogation and leave him there,” Porter ordered, ignoring me. I was pushed into an interrogation room, the officer taking my gun, wallet, badge, and keys. He handcuffed me to the table and started reading me my Miranda rights as I had done to an unsub hours ago. I stared at the officer wide eyed. I looked like a deer in headlights. I heard him finish. “I understand,” was all I said, still lost as to what I was being arrested for. A sat in the cold room for what must have been an hour or two. The door creaked open and Porter stepped in. I glared at him, my eyes not breaking contact until he sat in the metal chair in front of me. He dropped a case file on the table, his elbows resting atop the cold metal surface. “What the fuck are you charging me with, Porter?” I spat out, pissed off and tired.

He just stared at me minute before answering my question. “Your father has been murdered and you are our main suspect,” he explained, his voice cold and serious. My jaw dropped open.

“Why the hell did you arrest me for it? I haven’t seen him in fucking years!” I exclaimed, my voice betraying my happiness at his death.

_I_ _love the fact that he’s dead but I sure as hell didn’t kill him._

“You were in town when he was killed. He was found a week ago and his time of death was determined. You were here when he was murdered, and you hated him. You had motive and opportunity,” he explained.

I scoffed. “I didn’t like him but I sure as fuck didn’t kill him! I need to call my boss. I won’t speak to you until I talk to him,” I said authoritatively. Porter just nodded, picking up the case file and exiting the room. Sam Phillips entered the room; a shit eating look on his face.

“Looks like your luck has finally run out, huh RJ,” he sneered, clearly happy I was being arrested and charged with a crime. He set a phone down in front of me, uncuffing me so I could actually use it. I dialed Hotch’s number, waiting for him to pick up.

Hotch answered on the 3rd ring, “Hotchner.” I could tell he was at the office, alertness clear in his voice.

“Hotch, it’s Reese. I’m in Knoxville at the police station. They just arrested me for a murder. I need you and the team down here now,” I explained quickly.

I heard him curse. “We’ll be there in a few hours, just hold tight and don’t say anything until we get there,” he told me.

“Yes sir.” I hung up, handing the phone back to Phillips. He snatched it from me, shoving it in his pocket. He cuffed me to the table before turning and leaving.

A few hours later a very frustrated Aaron Hotchner was in the interrogation room with me. He approached me, leaning down to uncuff me. “They want to charge you with murder,” he said, a deadpan expression on his face. I rubbed my wrists, happy to be freed from the uncomfortable restraints.

I let out a deep exhalation, stress overtaking me. “What the fuck is going on?” I asked, “they asked me to ID a body and then when I got here, they arrested me.”

Hotch took a seat across from me, a case file sitting in front of him. “They think you killed your father while you were working the case here. Because you were in the hotel instead of here, they theorized that you went and killed your father. You clearly stated how much you hated him when the sheriff asked you about him,” Hotch said, his hand massaging him temples.

I stared at him, feeling guilty for letting emotions get the best of me while working that case and for having to drag him down here to deal with this mess. “I didn’t fucking kill him, Hotch. I didn’t fucking do that,” I told him, my voice serious. I felt drained. I wasn’t in the fucking mood to deal with this. “Are the others here?” I asked, needing all the help I could get. Hotch nodded. He opened the file in front of him, sliding it towards me so I could read it. I looked at the medical report. “He was stabbed 18 times? Damn…” I said, my voice trailing off as I kept reading. _That requires a lot of rage._ “Is his murder connected to any others?” I asked, hoping that another murder could clear me.

“No,” Hotch replied. I cursed under my breath. I looked at the crime scene photos, memories rushing back to me. I could hear myself begging and screaming for him to stop. I could hear his grunts and words from when he had raped me. I dropped my head into my hands, letting out a tense laugh. I couldn’t help it anymore. I just didn’t have anything left. _I only get screwed. I can’t catch a fucking break_. I felt a tear leak out, slipping down my cheek. I didn’t feel bad that he was dead, I felt bad that I was getting pinned and blamed for someone else’s mistakes yet again.

I wiped the tear away, looking back up at Hotch. “Just get me the hell out of here, please. The quicker and more legal the better,” I told him, resigned to the stress of this issue. I wanted out of this god forsaken city. I wanted to cut. To drink. Maybe even to shoot myself up with drugs. Anything. Hotch stood, exiting the room to try and make a plan and get my team together to investigate what was happening. I stood, walking around the small room, stretching my legs. I had been sitting for hours. I paced, my muscles tense. The door opened and I turned, facing the people entering. It was Morgan and Reid. “Hey,” I croaked out, too tired to say much else. Reid was carrying a bottle of water, setting it on the table.

“Hey kid. How are you holding up?” Morgan asked.

I snatched the water off the table, sinking to the floor and leaning against the wall of the room. I took a gulp of the water, holding it in my mouth before swallowing. I screwed the cap back on the bottle, sitting it next to me on the ground. I let my head hit the wall, a weak smile playing on my lips. “How is it knowing that you have to interrogate me, Morgan?” I asked sarcastically.

He grinned, picking up on my sarcasm and exhaustion. “I’m not here to do that, kid. Reid and I just wanted to talk to you. We wanted to make sure you were ok before Hotch, Rossi, and Porter come and interrogate you,” he shot back.

I groaned at the thought. “That’s gonna be fun,” I replied, clearly sarcastic. Reid gave me a shy smile.

“We will get you out of here. And don’t worry about Hotch and Rossi,” Reid said, trying to be positive.

“That sure gives me hope,” I responded, rolling my eyes. They both laughed, walking away and out of the room. I just sat on the floor. Too tired to move from where I was and do anything else. I just wanted to be out of Knoxville. I wanted to be out of all of this. I thought about the nights I had with Aaron, smiling at the memories. I tried to carry that as this shit went on.

* * *

  
I sat at the interrogation table, staring at Hotch and Rossi, my eyes blank and glassy. My face was an emotionless mask, my body numb. “Reese, we need to know everything about your father,” Hotch pushed gently.

I looked down at my hands in my lap, fidgeting slightly. “Ever sense high school he abused and raped me every night. He drank and tore me down. There isn’t much besides that,” I said, emotionless. Rossi glanced at Hotch, signaling his concern. “Don’t give me your damn pity, Rossi. It just pisses me off,” I spoke aloud. The filters between my thoughts and my words was gone. Hotch got up, moving to a corner of the room to whisper with Rossi. I didn’t bother trying to eavesdrop. I didn’t care. I knew they were concerned. I didn’t fucking care. “You bring me a knife, or a gun and I’ll kill myself right here. Problem solved,” I muttered. Hotch’s gaze snapped to me, his own emotions hidden. They walked briskly out of the room to continue their conversation, probably sharing information with the team. I just sat there, waiting for someone to come back in and talk to me.

After about 20 minutes Porter entered the room, a pen and a pad of paper in his hands. He sat down, putting them both in front of me, a smug look on his face. He seemed happy. Like he wanted me to go to prison and suffer. “You sign a confession and maybe the judge will cut down your sentence,” he said. I just stared at him.

“Never,” I spat, defiance clear in my inflection. His smug look made anger rise inside me.

“So, you just gonna sit here and lie? Like you did about your daddy hurting you?” he said mockingly. He wanted me to suffer. He wanted to hurt me.

Something inside me snapped. My rage came flying to the surface. “What did you just say?” I asked coldly. “You heard me,” he shot back.

“YOU THINK I LIED ABOUT BEING ABUSED? ABOUT BEING RAPED EVERY NIGHT? YOU THINK I ENJOYED BEING BULLIED BY YOUR FAVORITE OFFICERS EVERY DAY OF MY LIFE?” I screamed, my rage taking Porter by surprise, “DO YOU REMEMBER WHEN I WAS TAKEN TO THE HOSPITAL? DO YOU THINK THE DOCTOR WHO RAN MY RAPE KIT JUST FUCKING LIED? I LIVED IN PAIN FOR YEARS AND YOU DID NOTHING. YOU JUST BLAMED ME!” I could sense my team’s eyes on me from behind the one-way glass, but I didn’t care. I pushed to my feet, anger surging like a tidal wave inside me. I couldn’t stop it now. Everything I suppressed came crashing forward, all the unwanted and unresolved feelings coming out of me. I was pissed. “I WOULD NEVER DISGRACE MY MOTHER BY LYING, ESPECIALLY ABOUT THAT! YOU JUST ENJOY SEEING ME SUFFER! IS THAT WHAT IT WAS? YOU ENJOYED HOW I CRIED MYSELF TO SLEEP EVERY NIGHT AFTER THAT BASTARD YOU CALLED YOUR BEST FRIEND RAPED ME? HOW HE USED ME? HOW HE DRANK HIMSELF HALF TO DEATH AND THEN VERBALLY ABUSED ME?”

I surged forward, throwing myself at him. I was about to knock the man’s shit loose and I could give a damn about the consequences. Morgan burst through the door, a few officers and the other members of my team behind him. He grabbed me before my strike could connect with Porter’s jaw, thrusting me into the wall behind us. Morgan turned me around in his grip, one hand tightly gripping my wrists the other grabbing at his handcuffs. He cuffed me, holding me there until I stopped thrashing around. “You, in your office, now,” Hotch said, clearly addressing Porter. He was about to get verbally destroyed.

I sunk to the floor, slumping onto my side. Tears overwhelmed me as the rage subsided. I knew the team was staring at me, but I didn’t have the energy to care. I couldn’t care anymore. I registered their eyes on me, staring in shock. I cried, shaking violently. Here I was on the cold floor of an interrogation room, handcuffed and crying while my coworkers stood watching. They just let me cry for a few minutes, frozen in their places. Finally, I quieted, my eyes squeezed shut. I felt too embarrassed to open them, afraid of what would happen next. I felt Morgan’s hands around my arms, lifting me to my feet. I gained my balance, opening my eyes to look at the faces of my coworkers. I walked over to the chair and sat down; my body exhausted. I was emotionally drained. Finally, I spoke. My voice sounded broken. I didn’t sound like myself. “Why the hell are you people still here?” I asked, my voice hostile. My walls were going up. I was withdrawing into a defensive state of mind, self-preservation the only goal.

“Let’s give him some privacy,” Rossi said, backing up to the door. He opened it and the others filed out, before walking out and closing the door himself.

* * *

I sat there for what felt like hours. I looked up from the floor when I heard the door open, Hotch, Morgan, and Porter stepping into the room. Morgan walked over to me, uncuffing me. I rubbed my wrists, standing. “You’re free to go,” Porter said. I just stood there, my gaze shooting to my boss. “We caught the real murderer a few minutes ago. His prints were all over the murder weapon and we arrested you falsely. I am sorry. You can go,” Porter explained.

I stood there a minute, staring daggers into Porter. “Be happy if you still have a god damn job in a month,” I snarled at him. I strode quickly out of the door, rejoining my team in the lobby of the police station. They stared at me when I entered the room. Anger was clear in my gray eyes, rage lurking just under the surface. “Where the hell is my shit?” I asked, my inflection full of frustration and anger. JJ pointed to the conference room. I moved to the room, snapping the door opening and slamming it shut. I walked over to the table, grabbing my things and putting them in their proper place on my person.

I heard the door open and then close behind me. “What the fuck do you want, Hotch?” I asked, still angry. Hotch’s stride broke for a second before he regained his normal pace. He stood a few feet behind me, silent. I turned, “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?” My breathing was heavy. I was shaking with anger now, pissed at what had just occurred in the last 24 hours. Hotch tilted his head, still silent. I let out a rough laugh, “fucking great, Hotch. Just fucking stand there. Just stand there and do nothing like every other god damn person in my life. I’ll deal with this shit myself.” I snatched my go bag, moving to leave the room. Hotch stepped into my path, blocking me from leaving.

I stood back, throwing my bag to the floor and sitting in one of the leather office chairs, waiting for him to say something. Hotch sighed, sitting down in the chair next to me. “I’m proud of you.”

* * *

I walked onto the jet, rushing over to the couch to get some much-needed sleep. I couldn’t drive because of how tired I was and I trusted Morgan to get my car home safe. I sat in a chair, buckling my seat belt and waiting for takeoff. We took off and after about 5 minutes we got the go ahead to move around the cabin. I threw myself down on the couch, my legs hanging off the end. Sleep overtook me quickly.

JJ was shaking me when I woke up. “We are about to land,” she said. I got up, settling in the first open seat I could find. I buckled my seat belt, looking out the window. We landed and exited the plane quickly, getting into government issued SUVs and driving back to Quantico from the tarmac. I fell asleep in the car, too. Aaron shook me awake this time, laughing at my sleepy mumbling.

We rode up in the elevator in silence. I walked out of the elevators and immediately into the conference room, throwing myself on this couch to take a quick nap. I couldn’t drive home anyways; Morgan was still driving my car back to the academy. I was laying on my stomach, my feet hanging off the side of the couch, my arms against my sides. I felt someone sitting on the edge of the couch, a hand rubbing my back. I opened my eyes, turning my head back to see Aaron gazing down at me. “You should sleep at my place tonight. You’ve had a rough few days,” he said, gently but assertive. I just nodded, too tired to speak. I shifted, swinging my feet to hit the ground, my back straightening. I stood, waiting for Hotch to get his things so we could leave the office. I walked out of the round table room, following him to his office. I waited outside while he gathered his things. “Ready to go?” he asked. I nodded, gesturing for him to walk ahead of me.

We walked to his car in silence. He unlocked it and I climbed into the passenger’s seat, my bag in the floorboard in front of me. He put the keys in the ignition, starting the car. I put on my seat belt and then leaned against the window, shutting my tired eyes. I felt the road underneath us, my head absorbing the vibrations. The drive wasn’t long. Maybe 10-15 minutes at the max. _Fuck I’m tired. I am ready to shower and go to bed._ I felt the car come to a stop, the engine turning off. Aaron’s hand was running through my hair, stroking the soft chocolate strands.

“Am I going to have to carry you?” he asked, a little amused.

I opened my eyes. “No, I can walk the 30 feet to your apartment,” I grumbled sleepily. He chuckled, just sitting there for a minute, looking at me. “Can I help you?” I asked, a yawn escaping my throat.

He gave me a small smile, “no, just admiring the view.” I smiled at that, enjoying his gentleness. I opened the door, stepping out slowly. I took my go bag from the floorboard, waiting for Aaron to lead the way to his apartment. We walked into his building, waiting for an elevator. It opened with a _ding_ , and we stepped inside. Aaron hit a button on the panel, stepping back to lean against the wall. I leaned into him, my head resting on his shoulder. He tilted his head to rest on top of my own. The doors to the elevator opened and we stepped out. I followed him to his door, letting him unlock it and shutting the door behind us as I stepped in. I stood there awkwardly, waiting for Aaron to take the lead. I didn’t want to take advantage of his kindness.

He noticed me just standing there, waiting for him to tell me what to do. “Do you want to shower?” he asked in a soft voice. I just nodded, too exhausted and overwhelmed by everything that had happened to use my words. “Not in a talking mood, huh?” he asked, teasing me slightly. I just shot him a shy smile, nodding. I was blushing. He gave me a warm smile, clearly relaxed in his home. He led me into his bedroom through to the bathroom. “Just let me know when your out of the shower,” he ordered, turning to exit the bathroom and give me some privacy.

I dropped my go bag, digging around for my shampoo, conditioner, and body wash in little travel bottles. I turned on the water, stripping while it got warm. I searched for towels, placing them on the vanity for when I finished bathing. I stepped under the water, bathing quickly and then turning the water off. It only took me 5 minutes to bathe when I hurried. I pulled on some sweatpants and a random t-shirt. I was grateful I kept comfortable clothes in my bag for situations like this. I unlocked the bathroom door, picking up my bag and moving back into the living room/kitchen.

Aaron was cooking food. I sat at his dining table, my eyes following him as he moved around his kitchen cooking. I was tired and really didn’t want to eat but I didn’t feel like arguing over it either. He grabbed plates from a cupboard, preparing mine and his. He brought me a plate, sitting it down in front of me. He moved back into the kitchen, retrieving water and silverware, giving it to me. He returned with all his food, taking a seat beside me. I picked up my fork, taking a bite of the chicken on my plate.

I cut into the chicken again, practically scarfing it. I ate everything on my plate and drained the water in my glass, picking them up and setting them on the counter. I turned on the sink, cleaning them off before placing them into his dishwasher. He came over to me, his own plate and glass in hand. I took them from him, cleaning them as a thank you for cooking and just taking care of me. He kissed me on top of my head sweetly. “Do you want to go to sleep?” he asked. I nodded, moving to his couch. “Where are you going?” he asked, clearly confused. I gestured to the couch, shooting him a puzzled look. _Where else would I sleep?_ He chuckled, moving towards me and grabbing my hand. He led me into his bedroom, standing me next to the bed. He turned the covers down and gestured for me to climb into his bed.

For the first time in a few hours I spoke. “I don’t want to intrude, Aaron. I can sleep on the couch,” I mumbled.

He scowled, “not unless you want to. You can sleep in the bed next to me, sweetheart.” I smiled, practically floating into the bed, my body exhausted. I settled in quickly. “I’m going to shower and then I’ll come to bed,” he said softly, a smile still playing on his lips. I just nodded my understanding, watching him move to his closet to get clothes before he went into the bathroom, shutting the door. I stared up at the ceiling for a few minutes, listening to the running water. I didn’t notice I was still lost in thought until it was interrupted by Aaron stepping out of his bathroom, his laundry in his hand. I saw him toss it into a small basket before he walked over to where I was in his bed. “Why are you still awake?” he asked, faking disapproval. I shifted, my face burying into his pillows. I let out a groan. I heard him chuckle, feeling the bed dip as he climbed in it. His hands were at my shoulders trying to pull my head out of the pillows. He hit a sensitive spot, my neck tilting to try and get his hand off it. He noticed, his fingers digging into my ribs trying to find another sensitive area. I let out a growl and he chuckled again, the sound warm and throaty. I turned, facing him. My face twisted into a smile, unable to keep my glare. “You are supposed to be asleep,” he admonished in a lighter tone. He was acting. I scowled at him, my eyes shutting involuntary because of how tired I was. “Were you waiting for me so you could go to sleep?” he asked, curiosity deep in his inflection.

I nodded, mumbling, “you make me feel safe, so I waited.” My head and body felt heavy against the mattress and pillows. He kissed my forehead, pulling me into him so I could curl up and go to sleep. I became comfortable, falling asleep against him quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	15. Morning Pleasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morning sex and all that jazz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just sexual shit. Why not? Happy reading, kind stranger.

“Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man’s character, give him power.”  
-Robert Green Ingersoll

* * *

My eyes opened and shut. And then opened again, revealing a sleeping Aaron Hotchner next to me. I was still in his arms like I had fallen asleep a few hours before. I laid there, trying to shake off sleep and kick myself into gear. I moved slightly, tensing when I felt him move a little bit. I tried to slip out from under his arms but his grip around me grew tighter. I stilled, not wanting to wake him with my movements. I laid there, just looking at him, admiring how damn good he looked. _Do me._

I just stared at him for a few minutes, enjoying his slumber. “Are you going to stare at me forever?” he asked sleepily, his eyes still closed. My eyes widened and a blush spread across my face. He grinned sleepily, profiling with his eyes closed. “Damn profilers. You going to pretend to be asleep forever, asshat?” I grumbled. His eyes opened and I was underneath him in a moment. He moved his hands to grip my wrists, lifting them above my head and holding them in place. I could see mischief in his brown eyes, a smirk playing on his lips.

I looked up at him, a smirk painted on my face. His other hand brushed down my side, slipping under shirt to touch my skin. His head leaned down, trailing kisses down my jaw and neck. His fingers were digging into my side, holding me tightly. “Well… good morning to you too,” I said in a breathy voice, quickly succumbing to his quick seduction. He nipped the crook of my neck, making me let out a small whimper. I could feel him grinning against my neck, happy at how quickly I was submitting to him.

“What did I say about calling me an asshat?” he asked in a sing-song tone. I let out a small laugh, flicking through the memories in my mind. “Something lame that I chose to ignore,” I replied teasingly. He let out a low growl, his fingers tightening on my wrists and side. Playful defiance rose inside of me, the urge to tease the hell out of him coming clear to the front of my mind. He delivered a small slap to my thigh, a small sting coursing through me. I let out a rough laugh, finding it funny. “Hm… what should I do with you?” he asked in a low voice.

“Give me a good time?” I suggested. His hands moved to a sensitive spot making me jump and try and writhe away. I was laughing involuntarily while simultaneously begging him to stop. I was thrashing, trying to buck him off and get away, still laughing. He finally stopped, laughing with me. He still had my wrists pinned above my head, his gaze hot on my face. _Well this just got interesting_. I could see the lust and determination in his eyes and his body language. I just smiled up at him, enjoying myself.

“You do know we have jobs, right?” I asked sarcastically. He chuckled, moving up to kiss me. His tongue plunged into my mouth, dominant and controlling. _I would expect nothing else._ He pulled back, letting us both take in air. “What time do we have to go into work?” I asked, still breathing heavily. He looked down at this watch, reading the time, “well it’s 6:22 and we need to be in at 9:30 because of how late we got back in.” I grinned, “thank god.” He laughed at that. It was infectious and started laughing with him.

“Do you want to?” he asked. I appreciated that he always took my mood and safety into account before he much of anything. He wanted confirmation that I wanted to do anything sexual and if I said no, he would stop immediately. I nodded, lust taking over me. He grinned down at me, “I need verbal confirmation, you know that sweetheart.” I shot him a small glare, feeling pent up. “Yes, please just do me damn it,” I shot back at him. He chuckled at my lust and need. He was planning something, and I knew it but I was too horny to care now.

He leaned down to my neck, trailing kisses up to my ear. “You know I need to punish you for disrespecting me, don’t you sweetheart?” he whispered into my ear. I felt my dick twitch, happy at the thought of being forced into submission. I nodded slightly, my face flushing. I wanted him. _Please dear god just fuck the hell out of me, thanks._ He moved back up to look down at me. He released my hands. “Take your shirt off,” he ordered firmly. He didn’t have to tell me twice. I grabbed the hem, pulling it off slowly. His breath hissed out of his teeth, clearly appreciating the view. I smirked, “like what you see, huh?” His brown eyes were piercing into me, darkening.

I tossed my shirt to the side, hearing it hit the floor. He pushed me back down against the bed, his gaze still on my face. He recaptured my wrists, pinning me again. His other hand pushed under the waist band of my sweats, brushing my skin. I flinched, my body tight with anticipation and arousal. He moved his hand back up, cupping my and barely stroking me through my sweatpants. I groaned, trying to buck up into his hand. “Someone’s excited, even eager for punishment,” he said, his voice betraying his amusement. I let out an exhalation, hard and eager to get the hell off.

“Such a dirty boy for me, aren’t you?” he asked, arousal clear in his tone. I nodded, a moan escaping my throat. I bit my bottom lip, still trying to buck up into him to stimulate myself. His face became serious, “are you ok with being restrained?” I paused, thinking about it. I didn’t really know. I hadn’t had a lot of sexual encounters in my life. “I don’t really know,” I replied, turning my head to try and hide my profusely embarrassed face. “I’m going to let go of your wrists, don’t drop them from where they are, understand?” he asserted. “Yes sir,” I responded, keeping my arms where they were.

My face was still turned. I felt his hand on my cheek, turning my head to look at him, his hand moving down to cup my jaw. Two of his fingers brushed over my lips. “Open,” he demanded. I opened my mouth, taking his fingers into my mouth and sucking on them gently. He let out a low, guttural sound deep from his throat. He pushed them father into my mouth, my saliva coating them. He pulled them out, an appreciative look on his face. “Good boy,” he praised.

He shifted off of me, moving off the bed. I watched him walk over to his closet, opening it and retrieving something from inside. He turned back around, a black tie in his hand. “Come here,” he pointed to a spot in front of him, “and turn around so you aren’t facing me.” I complied, following instructions quickly. He grabbed my wrists, tying them behind my back. “Last time I was like this, I was being arrested,” I joked. He tightened the tie, making sure my hands couldn’t slip out of the restraint. “Different kind of punishment,” he joked back, “this isn’t too tight, is it?” I shook my head, “no, it’s fine.” He kissed my shoulder, turning me around, “good.”

“Kneel,” he ordered. I stood there, smirking in defiance. He placed one hand on my shoulder, pushing me to my knees. The carpet rubbed against my knees. He took his shirt off, throwing it to the side. He pushed his boxers down, his cock springing back up a few inches from my face. “I’m going to fuck your mouth,” he growled, “if you need me to stop, I want you to snap your fingers three times.” I stared up at him, admiring every inch of his damn good body. “Yes,” I said, nodding my understanding.

He gave me a small slap to my cheek, grabbing my chin roughly to make me stare at him. He leaned down, his face only a few inches from my own. “Yes _what?_ ” he asked harshly. “Yes sir,” I replied, my cock twitching. “Good boy,” he praised roughly. He pushed his hand into my hair, gripping the roots and strands tightly. He jerked me roughly, the tip of his cock resting on my lips. “Open your mouth,” he ordered. I opened my mouth, his cock pushing inside as he pushed my head forward.

I moaned around his shaft, precum leaking out him onto my tongue. He pulled out before pushing in again slowly. He was going to pick up his pace and build up speed. My toes curled into the carpet, my own body tensing with pleasure as I serviced him. His breathing was heavy, coming out in pants as he fucked my mouth. He grabbed the back of my head with both hands, building up the speed of his thrusts. The tip of his cock hit the back of my throat making me gag. He slid out, letting me breath before thrusting deep and hard back into my mouth.

“That’s it, take my cock like a good little slut. Fuck,” he snapped out, his voice gravely. I was stunned slightly by the degrading comment by found it arousing. _Who’d of thought I liked being degraded AND praised? Not me, wrong bitch._ He let out a rough laugh, noticing how much I liked being called a slut. “You like when I degrade you sweetheart? Such a dirty little boy,” he said, smirking down at me. Tears were running down my cheeks from his cock hitting my gag reflex. Spit covered his dick and my face.

He pushed my head forward, holding me at the base of his cock for a second before pulling me off and letting me breath again. One of his hands held my head in place, the other stroking himself. I was breathing hard, incredibly turned on by this so called “punishment.” He held his dick by my mouth in a silent gesture for me to take him back in my mouth. I did so eagerly. “Mhmm… such a dirty slut for me. My dirty slut,” he said, grunting as he stroked into my mouth. I heard a moan emit deep from his throat. I could tell that he was close. I was hardening even more from all the comments spilling out of his mouth.

I sucked him hard, trying my best to pleasure him. I wasn’t the most experienced, but I was trying. He was clearly enjoying it. Moans came rushing out of him as he got closer. “God damn…” he whispered. He pushed me down on him again, making me gag for a few seconds and then pulling me off his cock. He held me firmly by the hair. _That kind of hurts but whatever._ He stroked his dick as I took in air. “I want you to beg for my cum like a good cockslut,” he growled out. I moaned in response before starting to beg him. “Please, please cum in my fucking mouth. Use me, please. Fuck my mouth and cum down my throat, please,” I begged. He acquiesced, thrusting roughly into my mouth before holding me while he came violently down the back of my throat, forcing me to swallow.

He let go of me, taking himself out of my mouth. We were both breathing heavily, somewhat exerted from all the antics. “Stand up,” he ordered, his breaths coming out quick. I stood up, stumbling slightly. I stretched, feeling stiff from kneeling on the floor for so long. He turned me around, untying my wrists before turning me around again. He pulled me into a tight embrace, his lips in my hair kissing my head and whispering praises. I felt goofy with triumph, enjoying how much I turned him on. I reached around his waist, holding him close to me. We stood there for a few minutes just trying to catch our breath.

“Well, we now know you like degradation and being tied up,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. I blushed, pushing my face into his chest so he couldn’t see how red my face was. “Let’s take a shower before we have to get to the office,” he suggested. “Ok. But let me get some what first,” I replied. He let go of me, letting me go and get some water. I snagged two bottles from the fridge, walking back into his bedroom and into the bathroom where he was turning on the shower. I handed him a bottle before uncapping my own and taking a long draft from it.

“Thank you,” he said as he took it from me. I just nodded in acknowledgement. I screwed the cap back on the water bottle, setting it on the counter. I stripped out of my sweats and boxers, waiting for the water to get warm. Aaron stuck his hand under the spray, checking the temperature. He grabbed my hand, pulling me inside the shower with him. He let me stand under the water, my body facing away from me. I felt his pelvis against my ass and then his breath at my neck. “You don’t get to cum today as punishment for being vulgar and disrespectful. If I find out that you got yourself off and I didn’t give you permission, I’ll edge you and deny you for a week,” he asserted in my ear.

My jaw dropped, my mouth wide. I glanced behind me to let him see the astonishment on my face. He smirked, enjoying my shock. I turned back to face the wall in front of me, my eyes still wide. He hummed against my back, clearly proud of himself. I felt his hands massaging shampoo into my hair. I washed it out and stepped to the side, letting him wash the soap out of his own hair. He switched with me again, rubbing conditioner into my hair. His hands slid down my body, washing the sweat away. His hand paused, caressing my ass. I stilled.

“One of these days,” he began, “I’m going to take this hole with my cock and I’m going to fuck the hell out of you. You won’t be able to cum unless my cock is rammed deep inside you.” I swallowed, starting to harden again. I put my hands around my thigh and squeezed, redirecting blood flow so I wouldn’t have another hard-on. He finished washing me and let me rinse the soap and conditioner off. He did the same before turning off the water. I stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and drying myself off.

I walked into the bedroom, grabbing some work clothes out of my bag. I put on a fresh pair of black boxer briefs and some black slacks. I sat on the edge of the bed, pulling on some black dress socks. I rummaged through my bag, finding a gray dress shirt. I shrugged into it, buttoning it and tucking it into my pants. I buckled my belt, adjusting my shirt to tuck comfortably. I put on a pair of black dress shoes and stepped back into the bathroom. I sauntered over to where Aaron was standing, brushing his teeth.

I picked up my toothbrush, dabbing some tooth paste on it and brushing my teeth. I grabbed my comb and started combing my hair so it would sit correctly when it dried. I moved back out of the bathroom, striding into the kitchen to check the time and make some food. _8:04am_. I rummaged through his fridge, grabbing the eggs out of it. I looked around until I found some bread. I retrieved a pan, setting it on the heat and turning on the stove top. I put some oil in the bottom of the pan, moving it around until it coated the bottom.

I cracked three eggs into it, waiting for them to cook so I could flip them. In the meantime, I stuck some bread in the toaster. I flipped the eggs before taking the bread out of the toaster. I moved to cabinet I saw Aaron get plates out of, grabbing two and setting them on the counter. Aaron came out of his room, walking over to where I was in the kitchen cooking. I buttered the bread, putting two eggs on one plate and the remaining eggs on the other. I handed him the plate with more food on it. “You didn’t have to cook me food,” he told me.

I waved him off. “I know that, but I wanted to. I don’t want to seem like I’m just taking advantage,” I explained, opening a drawer to grab two forks. I handed him a fork before walking over to the table and sitting down to eat my egg. He eyed my plate. “You only going to eat a singular egg,” he asked tentatively. I nodded, swallowing a bite of my egg. I ate my food quickly, getting up to go clean up the kitchen. I worked quick and efficiently like I always did.

Aaron sauntered into the kitchen, bypassing me to clean his own plate. “Thank you,” he said, appreciative. “You are very welcome, boss,” I replied. He leaned into the counter, watching me clean. “I may just have to keep you,” he announced. I glanced back him, a bittersweet smile on my face, “Bad idea, boss. I’ll drive you away like I do with everyone else eventually.” It was true. Eventually I fucked up and people got sick of me. A twinge of sadness passed through me. He moved to grab my waist, pulling me back into him. He kissed the side of my head. “I can be just as stubborn as you. You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried,” he told me.

He looked down at his watch. “We need to get going. Get your bag together and let’s get to the office,” he told me. I strode quickly into his bedroom, packing my stuff into my go bag. I walked out to where Hotch was taking our guns out of the safe. He handed me mine before sliding his glock into his holster. I did the same. He slid a second gun into an ankle holster. “I really need to get one of those,” I muttered. He chuckled. “I’ll take you to get one sometimes,” he said in response. I nodded, accepting his offer. We made sure we had everything we needed before walking out of his door to drive to the office for a long day of paperwork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!


	16. Take to the Challenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tension rises between Aaron and Reese. The team goes out drinking on a Friday night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: self harm. 
> 
> Happy reading! I hope you guys have been enjoying the story. I'm going to be slowing down in posting because of the start of a new school quarter.

“Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow. The important thing is not to stop questioning.”  
-Albert Einstein

* * *

I stepped out of the elevator with Hotch, talking among ourselves as we walked into the bullpen. I opened the glass door, letting him step in before me. I sighed, not excited to sit around for hours and do paperwork. The monotony was the disadvantage of this job. “Not excited for all the paperwork, huh?” Hotch asked, reading my mood. I glanced at him, dropping my go bag on the floor and kicking it under my desk. “No, I’m fucking jumping with joy to do reports and paperwork all damn day,” I muttered sarcastically.

He chuckled, striding to his office. I walked over to the small kitchenette, grabbing an FBI mug out of the cabinet and pouring myself a cup of coffee. I didn’t both putting sugar in it, I just drank it black. I hated black coffee, but I felt like punishing myself a little more today. I walked back over to my desk, my eyes scanning over all the files sitting on top of my desk waiting to be finished. I thought about the mind-blowing blow job I had given Aaron earlier, glancing up to look at him working in his office, trying to get myself in a better mood.

I sat down at my desk, turning on my computer and logging in to my profile. I opened my inbox, flagging and deleting emails and answering a few. I looked around my desk, my pen missing from where it normally sat. I let out an exasperated sigh, rolling my eyes and opening the tray of my desk to retrieve another pen. I clicked the end, releasing the point to start writing out a list of things I needed to finish before I walked out the door today. _Fuck my life._

I started with my reports from the last few cases, getting through them all relatively easily. The biggest thing with reports was that they took up time, but they weren’t so bad. I then picked up some consulting files, looking over files and writing up preliminary profiles to help other PD’s catch their unsubs. I did what we normally do between cases, getting through as many things as I could possibly get through before my concentration was broken by Morgan’s hand in my face. “Hey, kid. You want to get lunch with us?” he asked, gesturing to Prentiss and Reid.

“Sure, I don’t have anything better to do,” I said, standing from my chair. I patted my pockets down, making sure I had everything. I followed Reid, Prentiss, and Morgan to the elevator, waiting for the door to open. “Where we eating?” I asked, not hungry enough to care. Reid shrugged, looking pointedly at Morgan and Prentiss. “We could swing by that deli on the first floor?” Emily suggested. I nodded, fine with that. We stepped into the elevator, making small talk. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I slipped it out, reading the words on the screen.

_Hotch: No drinking._

I scowled at the screen, typing out my reply quickly and hitting send.

_Didn’t plan on it, boss. I’m still on the clock. I don’t intend on getting fired over messing with you._

My phone buzzed in my hand a few seconds later.

_Hotch: You know the rules. Mine and the Bureau’s. Don’t forget them._

I sent my reply before sticking my phone back in my pocket. The elevator opened and I stepped out, following close behind the others.

_Yes, I know the rules. I’m not fucking stupid._

We walked through the first floor of the Bureau, opening the door of a deli and stepping inside. I was warmer in the deli than it was outside. We stood in line, looking up at the menu above the counter. I ordered a philly cheesesteak and a water. I didn’t bother to pay attention to what the others ordered. I walked to the other end of the deli, taking the bag my sandwich was in and paying. I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. _I am not in the mood for this, Hotch. Damn. Can’t I catch a break. I need to be by myself for a little while._ I walked over to where the other three were sitting, starting to unwrap their sandwiches and eat. “I need to eat lunch at my desk. I have a ton of work to do,” I explained briefly, walking out of the deli before they could get a word out.

I rode up the elevator with other agents talking among themselves about some budgeting problems or something. I didn’t care enough. I reached in my pocket, reading the text on my screen and rolling my eyes at it.

_Hotch: My office when you get back._

The door opened on my floor and I squeezed by the other two agents, giving them thin smiles and walking to the glass doors, yanking them open and striding quickly to Hotch’s office. I knocked on the door, walking through to make sure he was free. I looked up then gestured for me to take a seat in front of him, his eyes on the stacks of paperwork in front of him. I sauntered over, dropping the bag on his desk and taking a seat. I opened the bottle of water, taking a drink. I was waiting for him to speak. I didn’t want to be here. He looked at the bag confused, picking it up and looking inside. “Is this a philly cheesesteak?” he asked, confused as to why I was giving him a sandwich he didn’t ask for.

“Yep. You can have it. I’m not hungry,” I explained, leaning forward to put my water on the floor. “No, you bought it, plus you need to eat anyways. You barely ate anything this morning,” he asserted. I scowled at him. “And I said I’m not hungry. You should eat it because I don’t want it. If you don’t want it, I’ll just throw it away. I can take care of myself, Hotch,” I said, my voice laced with irritation. I felt off. The last few days had been agitating. He shot me a glare, shoving the bag out of his field of vision so he could look clearly at me.

I glared back at him, holding eye contact in blatant defiance. I was in the mood to pick a fight. Agitation was painted clear on my face, my body defensive in posture. “Why are you acting like this?” Hotch asked, still glaring at me. “Just a little irritated, that’s all. Now can I get back to work or are you going to question me my entire lunch hour?” I shot back, my tone aggressive and impatient. He tilted his head, taking on a more assertive position. _I am not in the god damn mood for this._ He leaned forward, his deep brown eyes piercing into me, dissecting every little piece of my soul.

God, he was good looking. _I bet that man is hot as hell during hate sex. God, he could tell me how much he hated me, and it would be hot. I am fucking pathetic._ “It wasn’t a request. You need to eat so you will. Denying yourself meals isn’t taking care of yourself,” he said, his words spoken in confident authority. My face hardened, getting more frustrated and stubborn by the fucking minute. My eyes burned into his, my gray irises full of ignited passion. “I told you, I’m not a god damn idiot. I can pay attention to what I need and what I don’t,” I stated coldly.

I rose from my chair, his gaze following my eyes at I stood. “Now, I’m going to get back to work,” I asserted, fighting his dominance with dominance of my own. I could be dominant when I really wanted or needed to, but that wasn’t too often. Every profiler a streak of dominance in them, even Spencer Reid, the most socially awkward person I had ever met. I turned, taking a step to the door. Hotch was around his desk grabbing me before I could take another step. “We are done when _I_ say we are, now sit back down. We aren’t done here,” he hissed. I glared over my shoulder, pulling my arm out of his grip.

I sat back down, glaring somewhat angrily at him. “Happy now?” I asked snappily. He drew the blinds, making sure that no one wandering back in the office could see us arguing. He moved to lean down in front of me, grabbing my chin to make me look up at him. “I never said you were an idiot, I said that you weren’t taking care of yourself. I know I said I wouldn’t interfere much in your life outside the bedroom, but I will make sure you are taking care of yourself,” he said coldly. I just stared at him coldly. He searched my eyes, looking for any weakness.

“I’ve been surviving on my own for fucking years. I know how to take care of myself,” I replied, my voice reciprocating his coldness. He chuckled, finding that funny. “It’s clear you don’t. You put yourself second. Starving yourself, drinking, and harming yourself isn’t how I would describe selfcare,” he scoffed. My glare softened before regaining its hard edge. “It is when you get fucked over all the time,” I spat. I rose again, wanting to escape his office. “I have to get back to work,” I stated bluntly, turning on my heel and walking out the door quickly.

I walked down the stairs, striding to my desk and opening the drawers looking for my knife. I had put it in my desk for safe keeping after I had gotten it back. I found it and shut the drawer, striding out of the bullpen to go to the men’s room. I took the first available stall, snapping the door shut and locking it behind me. I set my knife on the top of the toilet paper holder and started unbuckling my belt. I shoved my pants and briefs down, freeing the blade from the plastic casing.

I took it to my thigh, cutting into myself three times. My head lolled against the stall door, blood rushing out of the wounds. “Jesus fucking Christ,” I muttered, exhaling deeply. I grabbed some of the toilet paper, holding it to my bleeding leg with excessive pressure. I waited until it stopped before throwing the bloody cloth into the toilet and flushing it to get rid of all the blood. I pulled up my dress pants, readjusting myself to appear normal. I opened the stall door and cleaned my knife off, rubbing off dried blood and drying it with a paper towel. I stuck the knife in my pocket, returning to my desk to live out the rest of my high.

I sighed as I sat down, leaning back in my chair, my legs stretched under my desk. I felt the euphoria and adrenaline course through my veins, my body relaxing and resetting all my hormones. _I needed that so bad._ I didn’t care about what Hotch had said anymore, my high taking over my thoughts. I finally felt good enough to return my focus to my desk. My gaze snagged on the foil wrapped sandwich sitting on top of my desk. I glanced up to Hotch’s office, his blind opened and his face on his paperwork. I returned my focus to the food, moving it out of the way of my work.

I logged back into my computer, picking up where I left off. I worked diligently, everyone leaving me alone or steering clear of me. I wasn’t upset at that, though. I enjoyed being left alone to do my own thing. I was used to it from all the years of being alone and not socializing. Some people said I didn’t play well with others, but I disagreed. I could socialize, I simply preferred being alone and doing my own thing, focusing on my own drives rather than other people and their lives. That was what helped get me into the academy and the FBI.

8:00 rolled around faster than I had expected, but time usually flew when I was sucked into my work. I debated whether I should just stay and keep working or to go home and just relax. My phone buzzing in my pocket interrupted my thoughts. I clicked the power button, looking at the text that light up on my phone.

_Penelope Garcia: We need to go out as a team this weekend._

I rolled my eyes, exhausted by the thought of going out drinking with the rest of my team. I loved them, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes I needed to just enjoy a weekend both alone and sober. _“No drinking.”_ Hotch’s words rang clear in my head. An evil thought popped into my head and looked at everyone’s responses on screen to gage whether this was going to happen or not.

_JJ: Sure. Will and I can book a sitter and I’m free._   
_Spencer Reid: I didn’t have plans anyways._   
_Derek Morgan: Sure thing, baby girl._   
_Rossi: See you there, bella._   
_Hotch: Jessica is taking Jack to spend time with his grandpa, so I will be there._   
_Me: See you there._   
_Emily Prentiss: Wouldn’t miss it._

Mischief was running through my mind. I wanted to tease the fuck out of Aaron. I smiled wickedly to myself, thinking about my plan to achieve that. I stood from my desk, feeling somewhat guilty about what I had said to Hotch earlier and where I left off with him. I walked up the stairs, hesitating to knock on his door. I decided to anyways, feeling the need to make sure we were ok before I left. He was gathering his things to go home when I walked in. “Hey, Hotch.”

He glanced up, looking at me. “What is it Benson?” he asked, shifting back into his professionalism. I swallowed, feeling somewhat nervous. His eyebrows raised in silent question, prompting me to continue. “I… I just wanted to apologize for earlier. I didn’t mean to come off that way and I apologize for my behavior,” I said, my voice full of forced confidence. His face was unreadable, making me more nervous. I stood there awkwardly, waiting for him to speak. My face shifted to look at the floor as I tried to hide my nervousness.

He rounded his desk to stand in front of me, his hand tilting me chin up to meet his gaze. His face was serious, his eyes dark. “It’s ok, Benson. Everyone has demons. I just want you to understand that it’s my responsibility to make sure you are taken care of, as both your boss and your dominant. Do you understand?” he asked, his voice firm but impassive. “Yes sir,” I replied quietly. He nodded, satisfied with my answer. “Apology accepted. Now go home and get some rest,” he ordered. I nodded, taking my leave.

I grabbed my go bag, needing to wash the clothes inside and replace them with fresh clothes. I walked to the elevator, hitting the call button and waiting for the doors to open. When they opened a few agents stepped out, nodding their acknowledgements and courtesy’s before letting me inside. I hit the L button to take me to the lobby. The doors opened and I made my way to my car, shoving my bag inside and across the center console before taking a seat in front of the steering wheel. I drove to the grocery store, feeling like I needed to make myself a meal. I picked up some tortellini and some jarred tomato sauce to eat.

I walked into my apartment, tired and hungry. I decided to make food before going down to the laundry room to do my laundry. I put a pot of water on the stove to let it boil, walking away to change into comfortable clothes. I changed into some black sweatpants and a white t-shirt, throwing my work clothes into my laundry basket. I picked the basket up and carried it back down the hallway, dropping it by the front door as a reminder to get it done.

I waited for the water to reach a rapid boil before dropping my pasta in and putting the pasta sauce on to cook and thicken. I grabbed a bowl, dumping a hefty amount of pasta and a smattering of sauce. I poured myself a drink, whiskey from a week or two ago still in my fridge. I ate on my couch, not in the mood to stand. I washed up quickly, putting on some flip flops to go down and do my laundry. I put my headphones in and started listening to Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. I sat there, waiting for my laundry to finish.

I moved back upstairs, folding and hanging my clothing. I stuffed some fresh clothes into my go bag, setting it by my bedroom door so I wouldn’t forget it. I felt so exhausted. I pulled off my sweatpants, letting them sit on the floor. I set my alarm for 5am and plugged my phone in to charge. I laid in my bed, tired but restless.

* * *

Friday night came too quick for my liking. I had already promised Garcia up and down that I would go out with the team. She heard about Denver and now she wanted to see me drink. I forced myself into a second wind, standing around with the team waiting to step into the elevator. I was in jeans and a polo, comfortable for a night out at a club or a bar. I had to catch a ride to the bar with Morgan. I had taken the metro to work because I didn’t want to drive drunk.

We walked into a club already booming with patrons at 6 o’clock. We sat at a group of tables close to each other, claiming them with our stuff. I stood, moving to go to the bar and order a drink. I had been planning all afternoon, wanting to see a rise out of Aaron, and that was exactly what I was going to do. I ordered a Jack Daniels (neat) and a cherry coke. I grabbed my drinks off the bar, moving back to sit down at our tables. Everyone but Spencer already had a drink in their hand. I assumed he wasn’t much of a drinker.

I sat the Jack on the table in front of me, letting it sit there while I drank the coke slowly. I eyed Aaron, his gaze moving back and forth from me to the drink on the table. Morgan, Prentiss, and Garcia got up to go dance. JJ, Rossi, and Reid got up to go shoot darts or whatever it’s called. Aaron moved to sit next to me, setting his beer down in front of us. I glanced at him, a mischievous smile on my face. I sipped my soda, my other hand on my lap. I felt Aaron’s hand moving on my thigh, his fingers digging into the material of my jeans.

“Well hello to you too,” I said, my tone light. He chuckled, sipping his beer before setting it down to start a conversation. “I see you’ve been letting this sit,” he said, motioning to the drink in front of me. I smirked, playing along. “Didn’t have permission so I didn’t drink it. Just letting it sit until I get the greenlight,” I told him matter-of-factly. He gave me a wicked grin, settling into this lighter line of conversation. I could tell he was relaxing, comfortable in this environment.

I took another swig of my cherry coke, enjoying myself. I felt Aaron’s hand moving upward, massaging my thigh. When he began trying to go higher, I pushed his hand away. “Nope,” I asserted, teasing him. He let out a small laugh, mischief in his own eyes. He grabbed my drink off the table, moving it away from me. “Nope,” he reciprocated, denying me permission to drink. I shot him a small glare. _Well that fucks up my plans, doesn’t it?_ He smiled at that, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “You remember what I said I’d do if you drink without permission, sweetheart?” he asked darkly.

I smirked at that, finding it amusing and incredibly arousing. “Remind me,” I retorted. _This man is actually about to give me a hard on in the middle of a damn club._ He let out an amused scoff, his hand moving to my back and snaking down. “If you start drinking without permission, I’ll take you over my knee and redden your ass,” he informed me. I chuckled, finding the threat amusing. I looked at the tumbler on the counter, sliding out of my chair, leaning down behind him to whisper back, “well tonight might be the night you get to do that.”

I straightened, pleased with myself. I spied a vacant pool table in the corner. “You play pool?” I asked, watching him trying to recover from what I had just told him. He slid from his chair, standing with his beer in his hand. “Not really, but I will happily take the time to show you up,” he replied. I scoffed, finding his cockiness hilarious. It was out of character for him. We walked to the pool table, taking sticks and setting up the balls to break.

“Would you like to break, good sir?” I asked jokingly. He smiled, removing the triangle from where the balls sat on the felt. “Sure,” he said, leaning over the table to aim his shot. He pulled back, hammering the que ball and breaking the triangle formation of billiard balls. He managed to sink zero in his first go around. I let out a small laugh, happy at his lack of success. “This is going to be easy,” I announced, walking around the table to find a shot. I leaned over the table, aiming to sink the 7 ball into the front left corner pocket.

I hit the ball, sinking the 7 ball. “I say, we make a bet,” I began, “if I win, I get to drink tonight, punishment free.” I walked over to where he was standing, looking at the table to find another shot. “And if I win?” he asked curiously. I leaned over to whisper in his ear, “if I drink you can spank me.” I moved away, letting him absorb what I just told him. I raised my eyebrows in silent question. He nodded, a determined look on his face. “Deal.”

I lined up my second shot, hitting the que again and barely missing the pocket. I eyed JJ and Reid shooting darts a few feet away. JJ was too damn good at darts. I looked back at the game in front of me, needing to focus and needing to win. I was in a drinking mood ever since we had arrived. _If I don’t win, so help me god._ I watched Aaron line up and sink three striped balls. “Fuck,” I muttered under my breath. He missed his next shot. I lined up another shot, sinking three in a row and missing my fourth.

This was going to be close. I noticed Spencer walking over to where we were playing pool. I had a confused look on my face as he approached. “I got kicked off,” he explained, leaning against the wall to watch Aaron and I play pool. “Who’s winning?” Spencer asked, trying to get up to speed. “I am, but barely,” I stated, watching another ball sink into the center right pocket. “Now we are all tied up,” I muttered.

I grimaced when he sunk another ball. This might come down to being able to sink the 8. He only needed to pocket two more balls and he still had another shot to be able to do so. I rocked up and down on my toes, watching him line up his shot carefully. He sunk his ball, coming back up to stand and grinning at me. I just glared. He lined up his final shot before he needed to sink the 8, barely missing. “Thank god,” I exhaled. I walked around the table, looking for the best angles to sink 3 balls. I lined up a shot, missing by a few centimeters.

“Damn,” I mumbled, moving so Aaron could take his shots. _I am about to take a damn L._ Aaron sunk his final ball, focusing on the best shot to sink the 8 ball. I didn’t remind him he needed to call his shot, thinking he could slip up and give me the win automatically. “Don’t forget to call it,” Reid said from behind me. I scowled, making Aaron chuckle. “Thanks Reid,” he said, still trying to find a shot. “Bottom left corner,” he called, lining up. He hit the ball, sinking the ball with ease. “Damn,” I muttered.

“I can teach you better angles, if you want,” Reid offered. I smiled at him, “no thanks Reid.” I passed Reid my stick, moving out of his way. “I’m going to get a drink,” I said as I turned and walked away. I walked to the bar, ordering another cherry coke. I picked up my drink and took it to where JJ, Rossi, Morgan, Penelope, Aaron, Reid, and Emily were sitting and talking. I walked over, taking a seat in between Aaron and Spencer. “Shots?” Emily suggested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)


	17. Consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is all smut because why the fuck not. Happy reading!
> 
> Also, a quick thank you for all the support. It's really rewarding and really awesome when people read and enjoy the stories I write. You guys, gals, and non-binary pals are fucking awesome.

“Do not take life too seriously. You will never get out of it alive.”  
-Elbert Hubbard

* * *

“Shots?” Emily suggested. My eyes shot over to where Aaron was drinking a beer. “Yes! We need to do a round with Reese!” Penelope exclaimed excitedly. I raised my eyebrows in surprise and looked over to JJ and Emily who were waiting for confirmation to get a round of shots. “I’m in,” JJ said, looking at me expectedly. I thought about my options. I knew Penelope wouldn’t leave me alone until I did at least a round, but I also valued the ability to walk and sit down.

I looked at Aaron who was trying to stifle a smile, understanding the situation I was in. _Fuck it. The punishment is worth it._ “Fine,” I acquiesced. Penelope clapped her hands excitedly, going to order us a round of shots. A waitress came over, setting the shots down in front of us. I took one, waiting for the others to take them. “Cheers,” Penelope said. I tapped my shot glass to theirs, tilting my head back and swallowing the contents in the glass. I shuddered at the bitter taste. “What was that?” I asked, trying to identify the alcohol in the glass.

“Vodka,” Penelope said. My eyes widened in surprise. Emily set her shot glass down, ordering another 2 rounds. We shot those back too, a light buzz coming over me. I went back to my cherry coke, denying another round. The others got up to return to darts, pool, or dancing. Aaron was watching the others, happy with what I owed him. “Don’t look so happy about your victory,” I said exasperated. He chuckled, triumph swimming in his brown eyes. I rolled my eyes at him, taking another sip of my cherry coke. “Maybe next time you won’t make such stupid bets,” he said, amusement dripping from his voice.

I scowled at him. “You were the one who started getting cocky, I simply made a bet based off of my hypothesis on your pool game,” I said. He grinned, clearly happy that I got hustled. I shoved his shoulder, playing around with him. His hand landed on my thigh, rubbing it gently. _Sometimes I really wish the rest of the team wasn’t here._ He leaned over, whispering, “I can’t wait to see you over my lap while I spank your bratty ass.” I swallowed, getting horny at the thought.

* * *

A few hours later we were all making arrangements to go our separate ways. Spencer was going to catch a ride with Rossi. Penelope, Emily, and JJ were taking an uber to Garcia’s apartment. Morgan had left with some woman that had caught his eye. Aaron and I were in the back of an Uber. We were going back to his apartment because I had been smart enough to take my go bag with me. I was tucked into his side, his arm draped over my shoulders, his fingers rubbing small circles on my arms. We were both buzzed, me more than him.

We arrived at his apartment pretty quickly considering how busy the city could get on a Friday night. We stepped out of the Uber, his arm still around me as we stepped into his apartment complex. We stepped into the elevator with another person. Aaron pressed the number for his floor and then stepped into the back of the elevator, tucking me into his side. We got off the elevator and entered his apartment space, the door shutting behind us. I kicked off my shoes, walking into his private space. “I’m going to change before you fuck my brains out,” I said, walking down the hall to his bathroom.

I changed quickly, shoving my clothes into my go bag and leaving it in the bathroom. I strode into the living room, finding Aaron on his couch. He crooked his fingers, silently ordering me to come over to him. I sauntered over, excitement beginning to course through me. I stood in front of him, waiting for him to tell me what to do next. He grabbed my hand, tugging me on top of him to straddle him. His hands went to my ass, squeezing gently. I let out a small laugh, my mouth going down to seal over his.

His tongue pushed into my mouth, claiming me. I sucked on his tongue lightly, his teeth capturing my lower lip and biting down softly. He pulled back, his hands gliding up to sneak under my shirt. “Off,” he ordered. I pulled back, letting him take my shirt off and toss it to the floor. I leaned forward again, my hands on his shoulders. His hands moved around to my waist, holding me there. I ground myself against him, trying to stimulate myself. He slapped my ass, stopping me. “No,” he asserted. I whimpered.

His hands moved up, brushing over my ribcage and tracing my abs. My breath hissed between my teeth, my body enjoying his touch. “You’ve been a naughty boy, haven’t you?” he asked. I stuttered out an answer, “y-yes sir.” He hummed his approval of my answer. “Are you ready for your punishment?” he asked, his hand slipping under my waistband to touch my cock. I let out a stifled moan, his hand squeezing my tip. “Always so eager… such a filthy little slut. _My_ filthy little slut,” he said in that authoritative way he had. I bit my bottom lip, trying to contain my sounds.

“Stand up,” he ordered, letting go of me so I could stand. I stood quickly, anticipation coiling inside me. He leaned forward, shifting on the couch so that he could access me better. He pulled my sweatpants and boxers down, “step out.” I stepped out of my clothes, discarding them. He paused, his gaze caught on the cuts on my thigh. _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck._ His fingers skimmed over the tops of the closed wounds. He kicked back into gear, doing what he was doing originally.

He grabbed my wrist, yanking me over his lap and scissoring his legs between mine so I couldn’t move away from him. One of his hands gripped around my ribcage holding me in place on his lap. His other hand rubbed my ass, squeezing and pulling gently. I heard a small groan escape his throat, making me harden further. “I’m going to spank you 25 times and you’re going to count them. If you lose count, we start over. Do you understand?” I inhaled deeply, both excited and nervous. I felt a slight shiver run down my back. “Yes sir,” I said, my mouth dry.

“Safe word if you need to. I won’t be upset if you need to. Your safety and wellbeing is most important. Am I clear?” he asked, his hand still squeezing my ass. “Y-yes sir, I understand,” I responded, my voice somewhat tense. The first strike surprised me, making me yelp. “One,” I counted out. I could tell he was stifling a chuckle from my yelp. He struck me again, this time on the other cheek. “Two,” I counted again. He alternated from each side, trying to cover my entire ass. He built up his strength, each smack stinging more than the last.

My ass burned. _It is definitely going to hurt when I sit down for the next damn week. Kinky bastard._ I could feel precum leaking out of my tip, turned on from this entire ordeal. “Twenty-three,” I said aloud, my voice cracking slightly from how dry my mouth and throat was. I could feel him hardening under me, both of us aroused from me getting spanked. “Tw-twenty-four,” I said. His hand slipped between my thighs, running up until he reached my hole. I flinched when he ran over it. He smacked my ass again, causing me to moan. “Twenty-five.”

My body was on fire, the pain running through me. Everything inside me was straining with sexual need. My breathing was coming out in pants. He let me just sit over his knees for a minute, letting me catch my breath and my damned brain. He pulled me up, untangling our legs and letting me straddle him again. His hand was rubbing my ass gently, his other hand on my hip so I couldn’t move. I was ridiculously aroused. “Why did I have to punish you?” he asked, his voice firm but soft. I was still trying to pull my thoughts together.

“Because I drank without your permission,” I replied, still panting. “You were a good boy for me. I think I’ll let you cum tonight,” he informed me. My head was resting against his shoulder, still trying to get it together. He pushed up, standing with me clinging to him. I gained my balance, letting go of him. He took my hand, leading me into his bedroom. He opened his nightstand drawer, taking out a bottle of lube. “Lay down on the bed. Face up,” he ordered. I complied quickly, following the command. I winced slightly as I sat, my ass still stinging.

He chuckled, enjoying the lasting effects of punishing me. He threw the bottle of lube on the bed next me. He started stripping and I threw in a whistle for the hell of it. No matter how many times I saw him undressed I still couldn’t get enough of him. He climbed onto the bed and I felt it dip below his weight. He grabbed the bottle of lube, uncapping it and squeezing some into his hand before snapping the cap closed. His hand started stroking me, his pace leisurely and lazy. I tensed slightly, the lube cold on my erection.

He rolled me so that I was on top of him. His hand was stroking both of us now, his pace speeding up slightly. “I want you to tell me when your about to cum or I’ll spank you again,” he demanded. I nodded fiercely, “yes sir.” He smirked up at me, triumph painted across his face. I thrusted into his hand, trying to get more friction to reach my climax. “God damn,” I panted, pleasure spreading throughout my entire body. “Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked, his voice rough as he stroked us both harder. I looked down at him, letting my face answer that question.

He let out a rough laugh, smacking my ass hard. “Ah son of a… fuck,” I said loudly. I glared as best as I could down at him, bucking my hips into his hand. He was stroking fast now, trying to get us as close to the edge as possible. “I-I’m going to cu-cum,” I muttered, feeling myself getting seriously close. He slowed, his self-control fucking endless. He let go of my cock, stroking himself now. I cursed under my breath, need straining inside of me. I just panted, looking down at him, waiting for what to do next. He stopped stroking himself. “I want to fuck you,” he told me, shocking me slightly.

I grinned down at him, thinking about it. _Fuck it._ “If it means you’ll let me cum, then fuck the hell out of me,” I retorted. He grinned, pushing me up and back off the bed. He stood, kissing me hard. “Lay back down, face up. I want to watch your face while I fuck you,” he ordered. I laid back down, wincing again. He took the lube, squirting some on his fingers. He rimmed my entrance before sliding a finger inside of me. I let out a moan, feeling too stimulated to stop it. He slid in and out before inserting another and another. He stretched me gently, trying to make sure I wouldn’t be in too much pain when he fucked me senseless.

He withdrew his fingers, reaching into his drawer and pulling out a condom. “Well prepared,” I said in a lighter tone of voice, my breathing heavy. He let out a small laugh, rolling the condom on. He took the lube, putting more on me and some on his cock. “Do you want to do this?” he asked, deadly serious. “Yes, yes I want to do this, please just fuck me already,” I shot back at him, need driving me. He grinned before positioning himself at my entrance. “I’m going to slide inside of you now,” he told me, sliding in slowly.

I tensed a little, slightly nervous. “I need you to relax, sweetheart,” he said gently. I forced myself to relax, trying to let him push in more. He slid another inch in, letting me get used to the feeling. It wasn’t as bad as I had anticipated. “You can keep going,” I said, my voice breathy. He slid in deeper until he was all the way inside me, holding himself there. I let out an exhalation, feeling too damned good. “I’m going to move,” he said. He pulled back slowly and pushed back in; his movements slow. I was breathing quicker, my hand moving to stroke myself.

He slapped my hand away, his hips thrusting slightly faster. “You touch yourself when I say you can. You keep your hands away from your cock,” he asserted, his inflection deep and dominant. I moaned in pleasure, enjoying the feeling of being dominated and fucked. Aaron groaned, his thrusts building up, becoming harder and faster. He found a steady rhythm, the only thing changing was the angles of his thrusts. I felt an immense feeling of pleasure and a moan came out of me involuntarily. _Sweet spot._ He smiled down at me, sweat dripping down his beautiful face. My hands knotted in the comforter, gripping them with white knuckled force.

He started hitting that spot more deliberately now, watching me practically melt from the pleasure. I was close to cumming, knowing that I wouldn’t need to be touched to reach my climax. His fingers wrapped around my cock, pumping up and down quickly. “You still need permission to cum. Don’t forget that,” he warned, his cock still hitting that spot inside me. Moans were spilling out me, my breath wrenching out of my lungs with every damn thrust. “I can’t… I can’t, I need to cum,” I said breathlessly. He grinned, his strokes never faltering. “I think you can take it. If you behave, I’ll let you cum, but you have to be a good boy for me,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. My head dropped back, hitting the mattress, my eyes rolling into the back of my skull. _He is too fucking good at this. Way too damn good._

He slowed his hand, making it a little more bearable. He drilled into me, still hitting that sweet spot. “I’m going to count down. When I get to the end, I want you to cum for me,” he said, his voice laced with pleasure. He started counting down, his hand moving quicker each time. “Open your eyes, I want you to keep your eyes open and look at me fucking you while you cum,” he ordered before resuming his counting, “4… 3… 2… that’s it, look at me. 1… cum for me. Let me see those gray eyes.” I came harder than I ever have, my body shuddering with pleasure. I felt my cum hit my abs and stomach, my head hitting the mattress. I felt him bury himself inside me to the hilt, stilling himself. A groan escaped him as he came, the sound full of immense pleasure.

He kept himself there for a few seconds before pulling out of me. He took the condom off, tying it and walking into the bathroom to discard it. Pleasure was still working through out my body. I was dazed from my orgasm, just laying on the bed. I let out a breath, trying to bring myself from my post-orgasmic high. Aaron came back into the room with a washcloth, standing in front of me and smiling down at me. He cleaned my hole, getting all the lube off me. His fingers dipped into the cum on my chest. He held his fingers to my mouth, a silent order to suck the cum off. I took his fingers in my mouth, sucking the cum off of them.

“Good boy. My good boy,” he praised, withdrawing his fingers from my mouth. He wiped all the cum off my stomach, walking back into the bathroom to get rid of the washcloth. He sat on the edge of the bed. “Come here,” he ordered gently. I shifted, moving to lay my head on his lap. He smiled down at me, his hand running through my sweat-dampened hair. I just smiled, feeling good from the toe-curling orgasm he had just given me. I closed my eyes, my eyelids too heavy for me to keep up. “Do you want to clean up?” he asked, his fingers stroking my cheek. I just nodded, feeling too tired to respond with my words.

I shifted so he could stand up and go start that process. I lay back down, closing my eyes for a few seconds. I heard water running and registered footsteps walking past me into the living room. I felt Aaron shake me gently. I opened my eyes and sat up. “Here,” he said, thrusting a bottle of water in my hands, “drink.” I drank some of the water, handing it back to him. “Come on,” he ordered softly. I followed him into the bathroom, surprised to find a bathtub full of water rather than a running shower.

He stepped in, sitting down and then gesturing for me to sit in between his legs. I obliged, settling between them. I leaned back, my back against his chest, my head resting on his shoulder. “You’re really good at the aftercare part of all this,” I mumbled sleepily. He smiled down at me, accepting the compliment. His hand cupped some of the warm water, letting it run down my chest in a soothing manner. I relaxed, feeling good in his arms. We sat like that for a long time; the water started to get cold so we stepped out. He wrapped me in a towel, drying me off. He dried himself off quickly, leading me into the bedroom. He pulled the sheets down. “Stay here,” he ordered, walking down the hall to go get something. He came back with my clothes. He walked to his closet and retrieved a t-shirt. He handed me my discarded and my boxers, presumably as pajamas. I slipped them on before crawling into his bed, feeling exhausted.

He walked into the bathroom, turning off the lights and throwing the towels in a laundry basket I assumed. He threw on his own pajamas before slipping into bed himself. He pulled me close to him, turning me so he could spoon behind me. His pelvis grinded into my ass, making me yelp. He chuckled, his hand slipping down to cup it in his hand. I closed my eyes, drifting to sleep quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, kind stranger :)


	18. Slip Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even more smut. Morning sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am really tired and really didn't want to think about adding any serious story. I am swamped with school work so this was convenient. I promise I will add to the legit story once I get back on track academically, but for now just enjoy the fact that this is on my hard drive and not password protected. Happy reading! ;)

“There is a thin line that separates laughter and pain, comedy and tragedy, humor and hurt.”  
-Erma Bombeck

* * *

I felt a hand running over me, rousing me from my sleep. I opened my eyes, still tired. I let out a deep exhalation, stretching lightly. I looked to the side, my eyes finding Aaron’s brown irises staring at me. I gave him a shy smile, looking down and away from him. I felt Aaron’s hands running over my rib cage, skimming down my body. My shirt had been pushed up, exposing my tan skin to him. “Good morning,” he murmured, his fingers running up and down my sides gingerly. I let out a small groan, burying my face as far as I could in the pillows.

He tried pulling my face to meet his gaze again so I rolled over, trying to get away from him so I could go back to sleep. I felt his hand smack my ass, making me yelp in pain. I turned my head back to him, glaring. His arm encircled my chest, pulling me back into him, his teeth catching my earlobe. He held me to him, one of his hands cupping my ass gently. “How’s your ass?” he asked playfully. I smiled to myself, settling comfortably into his grip. “Sore,” I replied, still sleepy. He chuckled, his satisfaction humming through him.

“We both know you enjoyed being punished, didn’t you?” he asked in a teasing tone. I blushed, nodding shyly. He hummed his approval of my answer, his lips on my neck, biting the flesh softly. “Are you going to break the rules again?” he asked against my neck. I shrugged, but still nodded. “If that’s the night I’m going to get then maybe,” I told him, my voice playful. I felt him grinning against my skin, clearly in a playful mood. “Naughty little brat,” he murmured, nipping at my shoulder. I let him continue his morning antics, enjoying his company. His hand slid to rub the front of my cut-up thigh.

“You know we need to talk about this, don’t you?” he asked seriously, the playfulness gone from his voice. I closed my eyes, emotional pain rising to the surface. “Yeah…” I mumbled quietly, not wanting to give myself away. I knew that he could tell anyway. That was the biggest advantage of my social life being solely people I work with. They could always tell when one of the others were off, me included. It wasn’t hard to spot. You really HAD to try to fake it well. “Why do you do this to yourself?” he asked, concern in his voice.

I thought about it. I didn’t really know. Well, I knew of course. Most people know and psychologically it’s something people do to maintain some form of control in their lives, but he already knew that. I knew why but didn’t all at the same time. “I don’t really know…” I said, my voice timid. I felt nervous, like I was going to make him angry or something. It was the truth. I tensed up slightly, trying to prepare myself for a blow. _**“What the fuck is this, Reese? Fucking pussy boy. Always looking for attention like the faggot you are, huh?”** _Fear settled in my gut, my body going into self-preservation.

Aaron noticed my body switching gears, trying to prepare itself for any sort of physical violence. He released me, rolling me over to face him and then pulling me back into his arms. I tensed again, harder this time. “I’m not going to get angry or punish you for this. You’re safe with me,” he reassured me, his voice calm and soft. I was coiled tight with fear and guilt and shame. I felt so much shame. “I just… I just do it. It’s an addiction. I did it in school because it was legal, and I had access to knives. I just can’t… I can’t stop it and I…” I trailed off, my voice breaking. His arms pulled me tighter, hugging me. My face was buried in his chest.

I felt myself slip into a state of dissociation, numbness spreading through my core like a virus. I pulled my face back to look at Aaron in the face, creating and holding eye contact. “I need to do it. It keeps me stable,” I told him, my tone and inflection devoid of all emotions. His face twisted to project his concern. “Hurting yourself isn’t a healthy way to solve your problems. Mostly because it doesn’t solve anything,” he said softly. I looked down again, feeling ashamed by my addiction. _Addiction._ “If you feel like you want to cut, I want you to come to me next time. Please,” he told me, calm and dominant.

I gave him a look of sorrow, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to promise him that. “I don’t know about that one, boss. I’m not one for psych evals,” I said, attempting to make a joke. He gave me a small, thin smile, understanding the joke but not finding it particularly funny. “Not a fan of that one, huh?” I asked. His smile widened slightly at that comment. “I wouldn’t give you a psych eval because you would pass with ease. You aren’t a genius like Reid but when you are faced with people that aren’t profilers, you can sell lies very well,” he stated bluntly.

I smiled, knowing that was true. I could lie like no other. I felt guilty because of that, my face getting slightly red. I closed my eyes again, searching for an excuse to stop talking about this. I felt his hand sneak under my shirt, rubbing my back gently. I relaxed into the touch, finding it comforting. “What time is it?” I asked, trying to change the subject. He shifted his arm to look at his watch, “almost 8am.” I groaned, burying my face back into the pillows and force myself back into sleep. “Torna a letto, capo,” I mumbled into the pillows. “What the hell did you just say?” he asked, amused by my attempt to go back to sleep.

The thought struck me that the team didn’t know I could understand another language, let alone speak it. “It’s Italian for ‘go back to bed boss.’ Adesso per favore lasciami dormire,” I said, laughing at his lack of understanding. _I can totally use that to my advantage._ “You speak Italian? When were you going to tell that to the rest of us?” he asked, somewhat surprised and impressed. I smiled, knowing that I was going to be able to say things he wouldn’t understand and get away with it. “I do. I taught myself in college because I needed a hobby. It was better than getting drunk or high all the time,” I explained. He became serious for a moment, “you did drugs?”

I found that amusing but still took his slight concern seriously. “No. Not the hard stuff anyways. Just pot. Helped me blow off steam in the dorms while we were on breaks and I couldn’t go home,” I explained, amusement clear in my tone of voice. He narrowed his eyes, his concern melting and replaced by fake distaste or something like it. “You’re going to use your ability to speak another language to taunt me, aren’t you?” he predicted. My eyebrows shot up in surprise. _Wow, he figured that out quick._ “Accidenti che e stato veloce,” I said bluntly, amused by his profound skills for analysis. “Translation please?” he asked, curiosity clear in his voice and face.

“I just said ‘damn that was quick.’ You pick up on things really fast,” I told him, impressed by his abilities. Hotch was never less that impressive in everything he did. I remember when I watched him in the field for the first time. He was incredible in everything he set his mind to. He chuckled, mischief gleaming in his hazel eyes. “No more Italian. I won’t be able to tease you if you say things I can’t understand,” he said, moving his head down to nip at my ear. I laughed, enjoying the more playful mood between us. “I know this might be a shock to you, but that’s actually the entire point.”

He slapped my ass, making me whimper. “You need to stop doing that. It’s already going to suck when I sit down for the next week to two weeks,” I told him in a playful tone. He let out a low growl, an evil grin on his impeccable face. His lips trailed down my jaw line and neck, trying to seduce me at 8am. “I really enjoyed last night,” he said in a low, seductive purr. I shifted, trying to get away from him. He grabbed me, rolling us so that he was on top of me. “Why are you trying to get away?” he asked teasingly. I rolled my eyes, a stupid grin on my face. “Amico del cazzo,” I spoke up at him. He leaned down, his mouth by my ear, “you are damned lucky I can’t understand Italian.”

“If you could keep that a secret, I would appreciate it,” I suggested, hoping he would keep this quiet. He shot me a quizzical look, confused as to why I would want to hide it. “It helps that Rossi doesn’t know that I can understand what he is saying,” I explained, amused. He mouthed his understanding, making me laugh. He returned to trying to seduce me, making me sigh. “I’m serious. Last night was a very good night,” he told me, his tone genuine. I smiled, happy he enjoyed something as simple as having sex with me. “I did too. It was only my second time and it was probably better than my first. I was drunk the first time and I can’t remember what happened,” I said, blushing slightly.

He let out a small laugh, amused by my practical virginity. I had been in relationships before, especially dom/sub type relationships, but they never got very far because of my addiction to working and I didn’t end up having sex with them. I preferred work over people. Always have and probably always will. “So, I’m more or less your first?” he asked, his breath on my neck and moving down. His hands were grabbing the hem of my t-shirt, pulling it up to expose my skin. I nodded, feeling shy all of the sudden. He let out a satisfied scoff, his mouth moving down. He licked at my abdomen, leaving kisses and small love bites in his wake.

I was already hard, my dick somewhat sensitive because I was still partially morning wood. His mouth moved down further, avoiding my cock and going to nip my pelvis. I bit my bottom lip, trying to contain my moans and noises. I didn’t want to make any noise. My eyes went heavy with horniness and lust, trained on his head expertly seducing me. He looked up at me, his own eyes dark with lust and dominance. “Don’t bite your lip. I want to hear all the sounds you make,” he demanded. I just nodded fiercely, releasing my bottom lip from my teeth. I let out a tense exhalation, anticipation taking over my common sense. He let out a growl, his mouth moving closer to my cock, teasing me the entire time. “Do you want me to suck you off?” he asked in a teasing tone.

“Please,” I begged somewhat quietly. He smirked, enjoying himself. His fingers dug into my thighs, holding me tightly in place. His tongue licked around the base of my cock, teasing me. I squeezed my eyes shut, ready for his mouth to be around me. My hands knotted into the sheets, gripping them with white knuckled force. I felt his tongue swirl around the tip of my dick, making me moan. He drew in, apply tight suction to my tip, milking the precum out of me. He took more of me in his mouth, his movements and suction slow and soft. One of his snaked down to stroke the base of my dick, his hand falling into the same slow rhythm as his mouth.

“God fucking damn,” I cursed under my breath, feeling too damn good. I arched off the bed as he started sucking me harder. He let off, pushing me back onto the bed to hold me in place. He came up, looking directly at me as he spoke, “don’t make me tie you up to keep you still.” I swallowed, turned on by the thought of only being able to take the pleasure I was given. He moved back down, taking me in his mouth once again. He started speeding up more, clearly trying to find the speed that stimulated me but still made me need him, made me beg him for more. “Da… ah ah… oh, please… right there… god f-fuck,” I stuttered out, the pleasure spreading through me.

The warm, wet heat was so good. Too good, almost. I could feel him humming on my cock, clearly enjoying me squirming all over the place while he sucked me off. _How did we get here? Does it even matter? This man is going to be the fucking death of me, I swear to god._ I kept stuttering, letting out random explicit words as he sucked me and stroked me. “Please… p-please… oh my fucking g-god… da-damn…” I let out, my words slurring slightly as I enjoyed the feeling of suction on my cock. But before I knew it a random word had slipped into my begging and swearing. A word I wouldn’t have let out in a million years, yet I let out because of how drunk I was on the pleasure. “S-shit… god da-ah… ah… please, da-addy.”

We both stilled immediately. I registered what I said nearly immediately, my eyes flying open and widening. I looked like a deer in headlights. My face went beet red and I clamped my hands over my face to hide how red with embarrassment I was. I felt him pull off me, coming up and levering over me to converse about what the hell I had just called him. “Did you just call me daddy?” he asked, a mix of surprised and amused. “Nope,” I said too quickly. I could tell he found this amusing, maybe even somewhat humorous. “I think you just called me daddy,” he teased, “you have a daddy kink, don’t you?” I shook my head fiercely, trying to make what I was saying as believable as possible.

“Say it. Say it in full confidence, baby boy. I don’t mind either way,” he said in a sing-song tone, mocking me slightly. I couldn’t say anything. I was still frozen, both mind and body. I didn’t know what the hell to say in order to rebound. “You can’t deny it, can you? You have a daddy kink,” he said matter-of-factly. I was still bright red, my hands still on my face hiding it from Aaron’s gaze. I felt his hand wrap around my left wrist, prying it off my face to look me in the eyes. I wanted to die of embarrassment. I could tell he was profiling me, trying to figure out what I was thinking. “You let that slip unconsciously,” he pointed out, correct. He grinned, leaning down to whisper in my ear, “daddy will take care of you, baby.” My eyes somehow got wider than they already were, stunned by everything had happened in the last 5 fucking minutes.

He shifted back down to where he was originally, his hands rubbing small circles against my pelvis. “Relax,” he coaxed gently. I hadn’t even noticed that I was tensing up. I forced myself into a state of calm, my thoughts still somewhat scattered. I wetted my lips, biting my lower lip again. His tongue licked up and down my shaft. “Whose cock is this?” he asked teasingly. I let out a moan, feeling ridiculously aroused. “Yours,” I moaned. He grinned, pleased by my answer. “And what’s my name?” he asked. “Aaron,” I said in a breathy voice, my breathing picking up as he stroked me. He shook his head, chuckling, “no, sweetheart. You know what I mean. What’s my name?” It clicked what he wanted me to tell him.

I swallowed, my mouth feeling dry at the thought. “D-daddy…” I said quietly, feeling shy. He hummed his approval. He squeezed my balls, making me groan. “Feeling shy all the sudden? Didn’t say that with very much confidence. Do I need to prove that I own you, baby boy?” he asked me, his voice firm and teasing. My brain was stuttering for responses, trying to piece any coherent words together. “I’ll take that as a yes. I’m going to fuck that tight ass of yours again,” he stated bluntly. I moaned again, feeling giddy at the thought of being fucked yet again. He noted the change in my body language, continuing his onslaught of my body.

“You’re already addicted to my cock, aren’t you sweetheart? You want daddy to fuck you?” he asked in a rougher voice. I just nodded fiercely, too horny and aroused to think straight enough to give him a verbal answer. He grinned, understanding what he was doing to me. _Jesus fucking Christ. Sometimes I enjoy my life. Just a little bit, at least._ “Any other kinks I don’t know about?” he asked, clearly enjoying himself. I thought about it with what little brainpower I could muster, nothing specific coming to mind. I shook my head no, the answer truthful. “Good boy. Now, turn over and lay on your stomach.”

I complied quickly, turning over and laying my head down to look at what Aaron was doing. He was pulling some condoms and lube out of the drawer. I heard the cap snap open, the bed dipping as Aaron settled behind me. I felt a finger slicking my asshole, rimming me slowly. I felt a finger pushing inside me, forcing a small moan out of my throat. I picked my head up and then dropped it into the pillows, muffling my voice and any sounds I might make. “Such a dirty little boy for me. I’ve only slid a finger in you and you’re already moaning like a whore,” he said, his voice a low and gravely. I gasped at the degrading words, finding them hot as hell. It seemed odd that I would enjoy being degraded after everything I had been through in my past, but at the same time I enjoyed that I could turn the tables so to speak.

I felt a second finger slide into me, stretching me. It burned slightly but wasn’t uncomfortable. His fingers were changing angles, searching for my prostate. I moaned when I felt his fingers rubbed the deep bundle of nerves, pleasure sparking inside me. “Daddy’s little slut enjoying this? Do you enjoy my fingers burying deep in your tight ass?” he asked, his tone was becoming more aroused. I moaned around the pillow; my voice muffled by how deep my face was buried. _Never knew he would be this much of a talker. I’m not complaining though. It’s fucking hot._ I felt a third finger join his first two, the burn becoming more prominent but still not too bad. He was taking less time than he did the other times, but I didn’t mind. I wanted it rougher.

His fingers were finding a steady rhythm, hitting my prostate every other stroke. Moans were spilling from my mouth and throat, pleasure overtaking me. I felt him slow before he pulled his fingers out. _I want him. I need him. Fuck, I need him right now._ “You want me to fuck you, sweetheart? You want my cock in your ass?” he asked, his fingers rolling on a condom. “Yes, please… need it…” I whimpered, need straining inside me. He gave me a small slap on the ass, making me wince. “Please, _what?_ ” he asked, putting emphasis on the word ‘what.’ My brain scrambled for an answer, finding one quickly. “Please sir,” I replied. He smacked my ass again, his voice coming out in a sing-song tone, “wrong answer, baby boy. Please, _what?_ ” I was puzzled for a few moments before realization hit me. I felt somewhat shy. “D-daddy, please,” I begged, my voice quiet.

I could tell he was amused by my shyness, finding it entertaining. “Aw… is my slutty little boy shy? That’s cute,” he mocked. I felt him press his tip against my entrance, pushing in slightly and slowly. I could hear his breathing hiss from between his teeth as he pressed inside me. My jaw dropped open as he pressed inside, letting me adjust to the pressure of his dick sliding inside me. “Pl-please,” I begged, nearly breathless. He let out a rough exhalation, pushing inside me another inch. He pushed in halfway, letting me adjust more. I let out a strangled cry of extasy, enjoying what little he was giving me. “Tell daddy what you want baby boy,” he ordered in that authoritative way he had. I shut my eyes, knowing damn well he knew what I wanted. “I want you to fuck me, please…” my voice trailed off.

He pushed in all the way, making me shudder underneath him. He waited for any signs that I didn’t want to have sex or that I was in pain. When those didn’t come, he pulled back slowly before ramming into me. He changed angles, pulling back out and then slamming back into me, hitting my prostate dead on. I nearly screamed, containing myself just enough. I felt one of his hand’s curl around my hip, the other slipping into my hair and gripping it tightly at the roots. He pulled my hair, making my head come out of where it was buried in the pillows. He started thrusting faster, making me moan loudly. “That’s it, let me hear all those pretty little sounds. Such a dirty fucking slut, aren’t you? So damn filthy for me,” he said, fucking me hard. “You better not cum you needy fucking cockslut,” he growled.

I didn’t respond. I was moaning in pleasure, his cock ramming into me hard and deep. He kept thrusting, his hips going at a merciless pace. “I-I can’t… I’m going to cu-cum,” I informed him, trying to make sure I didn’t do anything without at least giving him a heads up. “Good boy. You learn quick,” he told me, still pounding me hard, “but I’m not going to let you cum, baby, not yet. If you cum too early you won’t get to cum again for a long time.” I stifled my moan, biting my bottom lip to try and keep my sound inside my throat. “Oh, you like that threat, don’t you slut? You like it when I punish you like the whore you are? That’s it, take my cock. Who owns your pleasure? You tell me right the fuck now who owns your pleasure and this tight little hole,” he growled.

“YOU! It’s yours, please, please just let me cum. I c-can’t fucking take it,” I cried out. I need to cum. _Please let me cum. Please._ He released my hair, moving his hand down my body and grabbing my dick, stroking it quickly. “I’m going to count down and when I get to 0, I want you to cum,” he asserted. He timed his strokes to match with his thrusts, getting me closer and closer with each movement. “5… 4… 3… 2… 1. Cum for daddy, sweetheart.” I exploded all over his hand. My eyes rolled into the back of my skull; my eyes screwing shut as I absorbed the pleasure. Aaron’s thrusts became rougher, chasing his own orgasm now. After a few more hard thrusts he came, holding me tight around the waist.

He held himself above me, thrusting into me a few more times before pulling out. I felt him shift off the bed, cleaning up. I just laid on top of the mattress. I didn’t have the energy to move. I could hear Aaron returning, the bed dipping as he climbed back on top of the bed. He rolled me over, letting me tuck under his chin. His hand tangled in my hair, holding me close to him. He was in aftercare mode, soothing me and petting me gently. “You were such a good boy. Daddy’s good boy,” he praised gently. I scoffed, rolling my eyes.

“You really aren’t letting that go, huh?” I asked, still dazed. He chuckled, his eyes looking at me fondly. His face twisted into a smile. “You clearly enjoyed it,” he stated. He was correct. I did enjoy it. A lot. A blush spread across my face. “You want to talk about it?” he asked tentatively. “Nope,” I said almost immediately. “I’m going to save that one in my back pocket.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)


	19. Victimology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wholesome Hotch and then a case in Texas. It takes a turn for Reese.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy reading!
> 
> TW: rape, abuse, cutting, etc.

“Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.”  
-Oscar Wilde

* * *

Aaron and I were sitting at his dining table, enjoying some well-deserved breakfast made by your’s truly, just talking and relaxing. I winced every time I sat down now. Something Aaron found too entertaining for his own damn good. “Don’t get anymore ideas,” I muttered, cutting into the egg on my plate. He gave me a wolfish grin, ideas clearly running through his head. We didn’t have to work today, so long as we didn’t get called in. I really hoped we didn’t. I just wanted a day of post-sex recovery and lounging. I swallowed the bite in my mouth, putting my knife and fork on my plate. I leaned back in my chair, waiting for him to finish eating so I could get back to cleaning the kitchen.

My eyelids felt heavy, tired from all the activities from the night and morning. Aaron let out a small knowing laugh. “Stop profiling me, asshat,” I mumbled, too tired to get sarcastic. He set his knife and fork on his plate, leaning back and crossing his arms across his chest. “For being really smart, you really don’t learn manners, do you?” he asked, referring to when I called him an asshat in bed and got punished for it. I looked at him, wide-eyed. I was too tired to have anymore damn sex. “If you’re going to punish me sexually, come back when I can stay awake during the punishment.”

He gave me a sweet smile, making me smile back him shyly. I noticed that I often got shy around him for seemingly no reason, but whatever. I stood from my chair, picking up my plate and moving to pick up his. He grabbed the plate from my hand quickly, setting it on the table before pulling me in his lap. I just let it happen, practically melting into his arms. Although his suits hid it, Aaron was strong as hell. He could compete with Morgan in all honesty. He held me in his arms, his head resting on top of mine. “I’ll clean up. You need to go back to sleep, especially if we get a case later,” he said, his lips in my hair. I shook my head, trying to fight him about the cleaning.

“ _Reese_ …” he said in a warning tone. I let out a small exasperated groan, trying to hold on to my stubbornness. “I’ll tie you to the damn bed if I have to,” he said, his voice playful. I scoffed, “you wouldn’t.” His hand stroked the back of my head, making me feel comfortable. I wanted to fall asleep in his arms, but I also felt like I needed to push through sleep and finish tasks that I had started. My eyelids felt heavy, sleep close to overtaking me. “You want me to prove it, baby boy?” he asked. I just shook my head, knowing that he would actually tie me to the damned bed so I wouldn’t clean. “Good boy,” he praised, shifting to stand up, “wrap your legs around my waist, sweetheart.”

I did just that, my head lolling against his shoulder. He carried me back into his bedroom, placing me gently on the bed and pulling the sheets over me. “Sleep,” he ordered gently. I glared at him sleepily, my defiance still standing tall. “Aaron, I should clean the kitchen because I’m the one that cooked in the kitchen. Start what you finish and all that,” I mumbled, feeling tired. He shot me a warning look, a silent threat for me to go to sleep. I tried pushing up to my feet, but he gripped my shoulders, pushing me down on to the bed. “Either you sleep on your own accord or I tie you to the bed so you can’t do anything but go back to sleep,” he stated firmly. I opened my mouth to speak but the look on his face made me decide against it. I shrunk back slightly, feeling small under his sharp gaze.

I swallowed, my eyes looking down. I felt timid and tired. “Sleep, baby boy. Don’t make me tell you again,” he threatened. I just looked at him, my eyes shifting up and down to try and profile him. “Don’t forget your manners, sweetheart. Give me a verbal response,” he ordered. “Yes sir,” I responded quietly. He ruffled my hair, straightening to walk back into the kitchen and do the dishes. “Good boy.” He strode out of the room, leaving me to go to sleep. I laid back down, tossing and turning, trying to find a comfortable position in the bed. I tried forcing myself into sleep, listening to the sink running down the hall in the kitchen. I kept flipping over, my body unable to get back to sleep. Once I felt the need to work, sleeping was impossible.

 _Fuck my inability to sleep properly._ I stared up at the ceiling, trying to force myself into sleep mode rather than work mode. I thought about getting up and moving into the kitchen to beg Aaron to let me work but I figured it was a bad idea. Actually, I knew it was a bad idea. His threat lingered in my head and I was too tired to deal with the repercussions rather than sleep. I rolled over onto my stomach, groaning into the pillows at my lack of ability to sleep. I rolled back onto my side, my eyes looking at the walls facing away from the door. I closed my eyes, trying to make my breathing even to kick me into sleep.

I heard Aaron’s footsteps coming back down the hall. He stopped by the side of the bed, looking at my back. I felt the bed dip slightly and his body coming around me to hold me tight. “I know you’re still awake, sweetheart,” he said, his arm slipping around my chest. I opened my eyes, stifling a small smile at his knowing. “Do I need to fuck you to sleep?” he joked. I turned my head around to look at him, a stupid grin on my face. I shook my head no, not needing sex as a sedative. “What do you need, baby boy?” he asked. I turned my head back around, shifting back to tuck into him. He tucked me into him, his lips finding my neck, trailing kisses up and down it. I let out a small contented sigh, finally feeling comfortable enough to go to sleep.

His lips moved up into my hair, kissing the soft strands. I closed my eyes, relaxing into his arms. “Was this it? You just needed me to tuck into?” he asked, clearly pleased with me. I just nodded sleepily. He whispered in my ear, “daddy’s boy.” I opened my eyes to glare, knowing that he would be able to tell. “You’ll get me hard again and I don’t have the energy to deal with it,” I told him. He chuckled warmly, finding my brutal honesty entertaining. I closed my eyes again, trying to slip into sleep. “Just be happy I actually stayed in bed,” I mumbled. He hummed against my neck, amused. “Daddy’s bratty boy. Now go to sleep,” he ordered softly.

It didn’t take long to slip into unconsciousness.

* * *

I woke up to a phone ringing an hour and a half later. I shot up, moving from the mattress to make sure I didn’t miss a work call. I found my phone, finding that it wasn’t mine that was ringing. I moved into Aaron’s living room to find Aaron and his son. My eyes widened at the sight, knowing I was intruding on his time with his son. I gave a panicked look to the boy and then to Aaron before my gaze returned to the kid. “Yes, I’m on my way. No, I’ll recall them myself. Alright, bye,” Aaron said, massaging his temples. “New case?” I asked when he put down the phone. He nodded, sighing. “I’ll put on work clothes and then trade places with you so you can go change,” I said, moving back into his bedroom to throw on some work appropriate clothing.

I rummaged through my bag, picking out a blue polo and some black jeans. I changed quickly, stuffing my sweats and any other piece of my things into my go bag, zipping it up before heading back into the living room. “All yours, boss,” I stated, dropping my bag out of the way of the hallway. I strode over to the couch where Aaron was watching his son do something. He stood, shifting sideways so that we could switch places. He looked back at me and I shot him a warning look of my own, making him continue his path down the hallway to change into his trademark suit.

I sat down on the couch, watching Jack write on a piece of paper. Spelling words, maybe? “Hey Jack. What are you doing?” I asked in a soft voice, not wanting to spook the kid. He looked up from what he was doing, acknowledging me and my question. “Spelling homework,” he grumbled, clearly unhappy about having to do schoolwork on a weekend and that his dad had to drop spending time with him and work. “You need any help?” I asked, smiling fondly at him. He reminded me of myself when I was a child. Before my father had become the bastard. “I don’t think so. Thanks Reese,” he said, his focus on the words in front of him. I watched him work, observing any behavioral changes or mannerisms I could find. I needed to get my brain into profiling mode.

My focus was interrupted by Hotch striding down the hall with his own go bag in hand, stopping when he found me watching his son work. I noticed a small, fond smile on his face. He was happy that I could still be comfortable with his young son around. I stood, moving to where Hotch was quietly so that I didn’t interrupt Jack’s focus. I pulled Aaron back into the hallway a little bit, standing in front of him. “You could have told me your son was going to be over here. I would have gotten out of the way, so I didn’t intrude,” I said, my face serious. He scowled, crossing his arms over his chest in the way all alpha males did.

“You weren’t intruding. I wanted you to be here. Jack is here to get more clothes and to do his homework before Jessica takes him back,” he explained, his face setting into an impassive mask. “Next weekend, you spend time with your kid and not me. I’m serious, Hotch,” I asserted, playing my one dominance card. He nodded, his face twisting into a grin. “He likes you, you know,” he told me. I shot him a skeptical look. “Jack hasn’t talked to me very much. He really only knows my name. And now he knows that I slept here,” I shot back, exasperation clear in my inflection. Aaron raised his eyebrows, finding my small amount of panic humorous. I smacked him on the shoulder, “this isn’t funny Hotch.”

“Jack isn’t going to care. He’s 10. I told him that you were here because you were too tired to drive home after we had adult’s night,” he said, stifling a laugh. I glared at him. “Don’t make me kick your ass, Aaron,” I said, pointing a finger at him. He held his hands up, backing up defensively but clearly amused. I walked back out into the living room where Jack was packing his schoolwork into his backpack. I picked up my go bag, throwing the strap over my shoulder to carry it. I looked back at Aaron, silently asking what the plan was. “Ok buddy, we have to go. I’ll take you down to Aunt Jessica,” he said in soft dad voice.

* * *

I stepped onto the jet and walked down the small aisle, opening the overhead storage and throwing my go bag inside. I took a seat next to Reid, picking up my copy of the case file and diving in before takeoff. “Where are we headed?” I asked Reid, glancing to look at him. “Austin, Texas,” he said, giving me an awkward nod. I eyed him, closing my file to read his body language more closely. “You ok, Reid?” I asked, trying to act impassive as to not give away my small amount of curiosity and concern. He just nodded, his finger on his lips. He was fidgeting. “Well, if you want to talk you know where to find me,” I said, not wanting to dig any further and end up upsetting him.

“What do we got?” I asked as the others opened their files and got to reading. I opened my own, looking at the crime scene photos. “We have a serial killer who is torturing and raping men and then killing them after 14 days,” Morgan responded, shuffling the papers in his hands. I looked at the victims. Each man had blue eyes and brown hair. Slimmer build. On the tan side. _They all look like me. Fucking wonderful._ “Well, at least I can be the bait again,” I joked sarcastically. Hotch glared at me, clearly unimpressed by my attempt at humor. “I’ll stop talking now,” I said, returning my focus to the case details and M.E. reports.

“Each victim was raped extensively. They also have scars on their legs too. A number. Meaning we have all the victims so far,” Reid pointed out. I looked at the picture of our 4th victims’ leg, a small number 4 sliced into his skin. “Sadist,” I murmured, paying attention to all the marks on the bodies. I bit my lower lip out of habit, focusing on everything in the report to see if anything stood out in any way. Nothing popped up. _Garcia will probably have better luck._ At that thought the screen next to us winked on, Garcia’s face popping onto the screen. I prepared for her to ramble and thought about questions I should ask.

“Good afternoon, crime fighters. Today we have a kidnapper and serial killer in Austin, Texas. Yikes. All four of our victims were in their 20’s, working steady jobs, so on and so forth. William Harris, 22, is our first victim. Michael Daws, 25, is victim number two. Jake Sanders, 25, is victim number 3. And Tyson Jacobs, 24, is victim number 4. All were snatched while they were out doing their daily tasks,” Garcia informed us. “He probably watched them before grabbing them,” I pointed out.

“Nothing a serial killer and kidnapper than a routine,” Rossi said, sighing. I nodded, understanding his point. It made it easier to get grabbed when you always followed a routine. “Did they have any connections in career paths?” I asked, thinking we might get lucky. “Today, Reese Benson, you are in luck. They all worked in the I.T. department of their jobs,” Garcia announced, “2 of our victims were snatched on their way to work. They were reported missing the following evening when they didn’t show up for work. Jake Sanders was kidnapped on his way back from lunch with his coworkers and Jacobs was taken on his way to the gym at 6:15 pm on September 13th.” The timeline would be crucial here.

If the unsub caught wind that we were on to him, he would accelerate, killing more people until he was caught. “Any overlap in financial records?” Hotch asked, his eyes focused on the screen. “I haven’t found anything yet sir, but when I do, you’ll be the first to know,” Garcia replied. My hand went to my thigh, rubbing over the denim that covered the scars on my legs. “Thanks baby girl,” Morgan said, giving Garcia her cue to bow out. We had the greenlight to move around the cabin, so I stood walking back to the mini bar in the front of the jet, the file still in my hands. I picked up a bottle of water, a headache starting to build in my temples.

I opened the first cabinet door on the right side, picking up the small first aid kit that was kept in there for emergencies. I opened the Tylenol bottle, swallowing two pills before returning everything to where it was supposed to be and walking back down to my seat. I winced as I sat down, my ass sore from all the sex I had been having over the last few days. “She hit it that well, kid?” Morgan joked, a wide smile on his face. I massaged my temples, trying to get rid of my headache. “Well, first, I swing for the other team. And two, no. I slipped and busted my ass in the shower and now I have a headache,” I lied. Morgan laughed, a surprised look on his face.

“More of a man’s man, huh?” Morgan asked, still joking. I smirked at him, nodding my head. “Yup. If I wasn’t you would be in trouble,” I retorted. He scoffed, amused by the thought of me hooking up with more women than him. “But, good news for you, I prefer men,” I said, still smirking. I shifted, pulling my earbuds out of my pocket. “Going to ignore us now, huh?” Morgan asked, his voice teasing me. I just nodded, plugging the earbuds into my phone and scrolling through my music options. I decided on a band called Escape the Fate and set the playlist to shuffle. I returned to the file, memorizing and re-examining any details I could in the few hour flight.

* * *

I pulled on a pair of latex gloves as I stepped into the autopsy room of the coroner’s office with Reid. I was happy that I didn’t have to interview victims’ families for once. We had decided that my resemblance to the victims would freak the families out, so I got to go the M.E instead. Reid and I looked at the freshest body laying on the examining table, a white sheet covering Tyson Jacobs’ torso. I looked at him, feeling sorrow for the painful and abrupt end to his young life. It was always sad when young people were being murdered in cold blood. They didn’t get to experience anything else. They wouldn’t get to wake up and dream about the future or see their friends and family anymore. It was saddening.

My thoughts were interrupted by a young African American woman entering the room to speak to us. She was in her mid to late 20s and physically fit. Definitely intelligent and a hard worker. Most likely came from a middle-class family but she struggled to stand out because of her siblings. “Hi, I’m Dr. Spencer Reid and this is Agent Reese Benson. We are with the FBI,” Reid explained. She nodded, “I’m Tasha Sloan. What do you need to know about our vic, agents?” I looked back down at the body, examining him with sharp, alert eyes. My head was still throbbing, but my attention never faltered.

“What was the cause of death?” Reid asked, throwing himself into the questioning. He leaned down, staring at the victim. Sloan sighed before replying, “blunt force trauma to the head. He was pretty beat up everywhere else, though.” I stood, letting Reid take over the examination. “Was he ever drugged?” I asked. Sloan shook her head. “He was tortured extensively. Mostly being beaten and sliced open with a knife,” she informed us. “Any signs of rape?” Reid asked, moving the sheet down to look at the bruises and cuts covering Tyson’s lifeless body. “Unfortunately. It was also extensive,” she said, a look of sympathy on her face.

I looked over to Reid, motioning that I was taking my exit. It was almost too much for me. That’s what every case seemed to be now. Too much. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, dialing Hotch. “Hotchner,” Hotch said sharply. “Reid and I are almost done at the M.E. He wasn’t drugged. C.O.D was blunt force trauma. He was sliced up and bruised. Raped too. Reid’s getting a copy of the medical report now and then we are heading back,” I informed him. There was a brief moment of silence on the other end of the line before Hotch finally spoke again. “We have another body. I’ll send you the address and you can meet us there,” Hotch sighed. “Got it, boss.”

* * *

Reid and I stepped out of the black suburban, pulling on gloves and meeting the rest of our team processing the scene. I flashed my badge to the beat cop trying to keep people away from the crime scene. “What do we have?” I asked, walking over to where Prentiss was standing. “Another body. Poor guy,” she said, nodding at the body laying just 20 feet away. I walked over to where Rossi, Reid, and Morgan were looking at the body. He was stripped naked, his body tossed on the ground like he was trash. I noted the wound in his thigh. _5._

“He’s speeding up,” Rossi announced as I squatted down next to them. He sighed, my head still throbbing. The brightness from the sun didn’t make it any better. “Why would he speed up now? The media coverage is minimal,” I questioned, puzzled by the acceleration, “there was no need to break pattern.” Rossi pursed his lips, frustrated that he didn’t know the answer himself. “I don’t know, kid. But we better figure it out.”

I rode with Hotch back to the P.D. We rode in silence, my eyes on the sidewalk watching pedestrians going about their lives. My elbow was on the side of the door, my chin propped on my hand. “Can you handle this case?” Hotch asked, his voice firm and monotone. I glanced at him; his eyes focused on the road in front of him. “I can handle it,” I responded, my voice reciprocating his. “If I feel the need to, I will sideline you,” he asserted. I just nodded, understanding his caution in the situation. I let out a strangled sigh, my head still pounding. We pulled into the parking lot. Hotch turned the car off, pausing and looking at me, gaging my honesty. “I’m ok, Aaron,” I told him, my face serious. He nodded, opening his car door and stepping out.

We strode into the police department, walking over to the evidence boards to tack up the new evidence. “We have an I.D?” Prentiss asked as she approached us with the rest of our team. I picked up a sharpie, writing the victims name down on an index card. “Nathan Murray, 26. I.T guy at Ashford and Associates just down the road,” I informed them, taping the card next to a DMV picture on the board. I stepped back, trying to think about how to link the victims. Morgan’s phone rang, snapping me out of my focus. I walked into the break room, pouring myself a cup of cold cop-shop coffee. I took a sip, recoiling at the bitter burnt taste.

When I walked into the main office, cops were preparing to listen to a profile. I sipped my coffee, watching the cops gather and sit down, waiting attentively for us to give a profile. I looked over at Reid and Morgan, standing next to each other and whispering back and forth to each other. I stood in the back, missing information that was critical to the briefing. Hotch cleared his throat, indicating he was ready to start. “We are looking for a white male in his mid-30s to early 40s. He is intelligent, methodical, patient. To many he seems normal, average. He will not stand out.”

Morgan picked up where Hotch left off, “He will be confident. He is a sadist and what we call a power-excitation rapist. These rapes have nothing to do with sexuality and everything to do with power. He feels powerless in his day to day life. He is a sociopath.” I payed attention, my eyes shifting to JJ who scrambled to add, “the media does not have the details of this case. You will need to close ranks.”

I stepped forward, walking to the front of the room. “He accelerated the timeline of his killing. Something prompted him to kill our last victim early. If we release info to the press, the timeline will get faster,” I announced, my voice loud and confident. I looked at Rossi, letting him take over as I stood next to Reid and Morgan. “He has a place to keep his victims. You can’t torture and rape grown men without having a place to do so. When we find him, he will most likely be grabbing or dumping another victim,” he said. “That’s all for now, thank you.”

Hours went by as we followed up paperwork and threw out theories. I worked on connections to the workplace, knowing there had to be something there. “Food break,” Morgan announced, slapping me on the back of the head. “What the hell, Morgan!” I exclaimed, pain shooting through me. My head hadn’t stopped pounding. I pushed back, the chair scrapping against the floor. I stood, making sure I had everything I needed to go out to eat. “Where we going?” I asked, knowing it would probably be some Chinese place. “Chinese place.” I scoffed, “knew it.”

We sat around the table in a cheap Chinese place, talking about profilers from the olden days and listening to old stories from Rossi. I picked up a piece of shrimp with my chopsticks, eating quickly. I really wanted to go back to the hotel and sleep. I needed to sleep the headache off. Reid was sitting next to me, struggling to use the chopsticks he was given. I chuckled, finding it funny that he was a genius, but he couldn’t operate two sticks. My phone vibrated in my pocket, making me sigh and roll my eyes. I read the name on the screen. “Todd Elmore.” I stood, “I have to take this. Excuse me.” I accepted the call as I strode out the door to take the call outside.

“Elmore!” I exclaimed as I put the phone to my ear. “Hey, Benson. How’s it going?” he asked, his voice full of happiness. Todd was my only friend back in college. He worked at some lab in Seattle, Washington. “I’m working a case right now. I’m eating dinner with my team at the moment,” I told him, “what do you need, Todd.” He chuckled, enjoying how I always got straight to the point. “I’m just checking in. I heard about Knoxville and I wanted to talk to you,” he explained. “Oh… I’m all good. I handled it. My boss helped me out and so did my team.”

I spoke with Todd for a few more minutes, laughing and just catching up. I finally hung up, walking back towards the entrance of the restaurant. I felt a hand around my upper arm, yanking me away. A felt a sharp point at my back. _Oh hell no. HELL NO._ “Walk with me or I will stab you,” a man said, his voice deep and confident. I nodded, walking where he wanted me too. I walked quickly and quietly, the man shoving me into a white work van. This was going to suck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! Should I do some Hotch POV chapters?


	20. Ownership

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reese has been kidnapped by the unsub.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: abuse, rape, etc. Please use discretion
> 
> This is a rough one. Happy reading :)

“What we have done for ourselves alone dies with us; what we have done for others and the world remains and is immortal.”  
-Albert Pike

* * *

I woke up in a daze, my head spinning as I tried to take in my surroundings. I was sitting on the floor in my boxers and a generic white t-shirt. _Where the hell am I?_ I squinted, trying to focus on the things in front of me. I attempted to move to my feet only to find out I was chained to the cold slab of concrete foundation. A shiver worked up my spine, my brain quickly starting to understand where I was and what was happening. “Good morning, number 6,” a man said from the darkest corner of the room. I didn’t know what to do or how to respond. The man chuckled, “you can respond.”

“G-good morning, um… what would you like me to call you?” I asked timidly. I was attempting to calm myself down, knowing it wouldn’t help if I was frozen in fear. He stepped into the light, letting me see him. He was taller than me by a few inches. My guess, 6’2. He had black hair, his eyes a deep hazel color. He reminded me of… Aaron. It creeped me out. He was smiling at me, already somewhat pleased with me for trying to simply survive. “You can call me sir. Understand, little one?” he said, his voice firm and confident. It was deep, monotone. _I am never going to be able to get myself out of here. Ever._

“Y-yes sir,” I stuttered out meekly. I was terrified. He moved towards me, stopping directly in front of me, stroking my hair. “Good boy,” he praised. He squatted down to look me in the face. I moved my gaze down to the floor from instinct. My experiences from my teenage years were kicking in, my body doing things automatically. His hand gripped my chin gently, tilting my head to meet his eyes. He tilted his head, getting a good look at me. “You are the first one to submit willingly. I might get to keep you, little one, but you need to be good for me. Understand?” he asked. I nodded fiercely, “yes sir.” He grinned at me, his eyes darkening. No. No, please. Please god no.

His hand moved, stopping just before it would have slapped me in the face. My eyes stayed glued to his, my body staying still. I didn’t flinch or move. It would get me killed. “Oh… what do we have here? Already trained, it seems. Did another man train you, little one?” he asked, clearly impressed and surprised by my lack of reaction. I thought for a moment, my mouth opening without any sound coming out. “I-I… kind of, sir,” I responded quietly. He gave me a confused look, but I didn’t explain. I didn’t plan on doing anything unless I was told. He ran his hands down to my thighs, catching my boxers and pulling up the leg revealing my scars.

I didn’t break eye contact. No matter how much I wanted to. “Is that what these are from or did you do these to yourself?” he asked, his voice calm. “I d-did them my-myself, sir,” I told him, my voice never rising. I just stayed quiet, not wanting to upset him. He hummed with curiosity, interested in me. “Why did you do that, little one? Hm? Tell your new owner why you would do that,” he ordered, his voice rising with anger. I was too scared to tell if I was making him mad or if what someone did to make me do it made him mad. “My dad… he raped and abused me as a teenager and I… I cut myself to deal with it,” I told him, my voice shaking with fear. It gripped me, trying to stop me from surviving. He nodded, understanding what I told him and why. “Where’s the man that did that to you, little one?” he asked, his voice tight. “Dead,” I answered immediately, still pleased that he was dead and gone.

He smiled, enjoying that he was dead along with me, and he didn’t even know him. I swallowed, scared out of my mind. I had no clue what was coming or what was going to happen. His fingers brushed lightly over the scars, rubbing my thigh gently. “Are you hungry or thirsty, little one? Need to go to the bathroom?” he asked, his dark eyes coming back up to meet mine. “May I have some water and some food, sir?” I asked in a small, scared voice. He smiled again, pleased by something I did. “Such a well-behaved little boy. Yes, you may. I’ll go get some for you,” he stated as he stood. “Thank you, sir,” I said as he took his exit.

I waited for him to walk out of the room before I started panicking. _What am I going to do? What is the team doing? Is there a way to get out of here? Is Aaron looking for me? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Think, Reese. Think._ I registered the man coming back, my eyes shot to the floor. I stared at the ground, not willing to lift my head unless I was ordered to. He approached me; his pace consistent. I saw his feet in my field of vision, my head not moving from where it was. “Look up at me, little one. Now,” he ordered firmly. I complied immediately, meeting his eyes and focusing completely on his face. “Good boy. Hold out your hands,” he ordered. I did what he said, my brain and body moving in autopilot.

The chains felt heavy, my arms burning slightly when I lifted them to hold out my hands. He placed a sandwich in my hands. “Eat.” I did so, eating slowly. Being cautious. He sat down in front of me, a bottle of water by his feet. I took a bite of the sandwich. _Ham and cheese, maybe? Who cares? I’m starving._ I looked at the floor while I ate, trying not to provoke the man. I saw him open the bottle of water in my peripheral vision. He sat the cap down beside him with the water, his arms returning to rest on his knees. I ate in silence. I finished the sandwich, my hands returning to my sides, waiting for a command.

We sat like that for a long time. I never moved. Never spoke. Just took breathes. Finally, he spoke, his voice calm, “drink, little one. The whole thing. Be a good boy for me.” I took the bottle from his hands, chugging the whole thing before holding the bottle out for him to inspect. He plucked it from my hands, letting my arms return to my sides. “I have to go to work now, little one. I want you to kneel. Head down with your hands on your knees. Do it now,” he ordered, watching me move into that position quickly. “Good boy. Now stay that way until I get back,” he added, getting up. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” I responded, my voice tiny. I could tell he was smiling, pleased by how submissive I was. He exited, leaving me in the cold, empty room.

* * *

I stayed put, kneeling on the floor for hours. I didn’t dare to move. Instead I used the time to think. I started profiling the man’s behavior, though it was difficult because my fear made it harder to notice things. _Why me? Why did the blitz attack if the others were watched and chosen beforehand? Why the timeline?_ I thought about it for as long as I could, trying to find something that could help me out of here. When I couldn’t profile anymore, I turned to memories. Reliving anything I could think of. I tried to focus on the good memories. The team. Having mind-blowing sex with Aaron. Making it into the academy. But like always, my mind turned to the dark.

I remembered the worst moments of my life. Getting arrested for a murder I didn’t commit and breaking down in front of my team members. Having nightmares. The abuse. The bullying. Getting raped by my own father. I started shaking, a tear slipping down my cheek. I didn’t let out any sound, not wanting to get in trouble if I was being recorded. “Why are you crying, little one?” the man asked, concern in his voice ringing clear. My eyes widened; my gaze still aimed at the floor. “Ju-just… um… remembering some things, sir,” I answered meekly. I felt sick. _How long have I been here? Is the team having luck with any lead? I hope they can find me in time._

He approached the center of the room slowly, stopping in the middle. A spot where I could only hear his voice. “You stayed in position while I was at work. I think you deserve a reward for being good while I was gone,” he stated matter-of-factly. I swallowed, preparing to dissociate if it meant doing anything sexual. I could hear him walking towards me. His pace leisurely, carefree. “Have you ever been collared, little one?” he asked, his voice betraying his tightness at the thought that someone else had ever been with me. “No sir,” I replied. I could sense his smile, satisfied that he would be the first- and potentially last- that had ever ‘collared’ me. _No. No. NO. Please no._

He stepped forward, his shoes in my field of view from my staring at the ground. “Head up, little one. I want to see those pretty gray eyes,” he ordered, clearly fond of his victim choice. I did as he ordered, raising my head up to look him in the eye. I noted the brown collar in his hand, a small metal loop with a tag attached. It was engraved but I couldn’t make out the words. It didn’t matter either way. He held the tag in front of my face, letting me read the inscription. _Little One._ A small number was inscribed under it. _6._ _Because I’m victim number six. Great._ “I’m going to keep you. Unlike the first 5, you do as your told. _I_ own you now, little one,” he asserted, his voice deep and dominant yet pleased.

“Yes sir,” I responded, acknowledging his so-called ‘ownership’ of me. He smiled wickedly, pleased by my acceptance of him. I was simply doing what I needed to do to keep myself alive. He bent down, unclicking the small buckle on the collar and placing it around my neck, snapping the buckle into place. He stepped back, admiring the change. “Thank you, sir,” I said, trying to sound as genuine as I could in my state of fear and submission. “So well behaved. The first one always screamed. And the third one would just sob and never stop. You, however, are the perfect pet. Already well trained and probably very receptive of training,” he said, thinking out loud.

Then I heard a sound. _That_ sound. The one that haunted me in my sleep. The sound of his belt and his zipper. I held myself together, ensuring that I could get myself through this day. “I put a virus on the last one’s computer. You think your old friends are watching, little one? Watching your new life with your new owner? You can answer. I want you to speak,” he said wickedly. “They probably are sir. But it won’t matter because I’m yours, sir,” I said softly, my voice only audible to his ears. I was still looking at him, my eyes following his movements, never breaking contact. _Please hurry the hell up and save me. Please. Please dear god_. His face twisted into a look of satisfaction. I could tell his hand was pushing down his pants and underwear, his intentions clear. He was going to make me blow him.

I wondered if the team was watching. If Aaron was watching. I wondered what they were doing or what they had pieced together. I needed them. I prayed that they were 5 minutes away from kicking the door in and rescuing me. That Morgan was about to tackle and beat the living hell out of this man. “Have you ever sucked another man’s cock before, little one?” he asked, his hand stroking his dick. I nodded, “yes sir. I have sir.” He tilted head, slightly irritated at the thought. “You’re a faggot, aren’t you?” he asked, intrigued but still irritated that I had blown someone that wasn’t him. I nodded, my mouth going dry at remembered trauma.

I forced words out of my mouth, “yes sir.” He stepped forward, gripping me by the ear and pulled my mouth towards his cock. “Suck it, little one. No biting or I’ll make you sorry you did,” he demanded, his self-control cracking a little bit. I took the tip of his cock in my mouth, a groan escaping his throat. I hadn’t even really taken him yet, when he grabbed the collar around my neck and thrusted into my throat, making me gag slightly. I felt tears welling up in my eyes involuntarily. He was fucking my mouth, his strokes sloppy and terribly timed. He pulled back to let me inhale before roughly jerking into my mouth again. I made sure I didn’t bite him on accident, not wanting to incur his wrath.

I tried to dissociate. To think of the time, I had blown Aaron and enjoyed it. How careful he was before he plowed my mouth mercilessly. I was choking around this man’s cock but imagining someone else. I moaned around him, trying to sell my act to him. I needed to live. _I will survive. I will survive. I will survive._ After what seemed like an eternity, he shoved into me for the last time, cum spurting into my mouth. “Don’t swallow yet, little one,” he ordered roughly. I didn’t, making sure I followed his orders to a damn T. He pulled his cock out of my mouth, looking at my spit covered face. Tears were rolling down my cheeks, sweat coursing down my forehead.

“Open your mouth and show me my cum, little one. Show me your reward for behaving,” he ordered, tucking himself back into his pants. I opened my mouth, showing off the sticky white substance. “Good boy. Now swallow,” he demanded, his voice rough and gravely. I swallowed, my eyes looking at him and waiting for my next orders. “Do you need anything, little one?” he asked, his breath coming out in heavy pants. “May I use the bathroom, sir?” I asked, my voice breaking from how rough I was just violated in the mouth. “You may, little one.”

He moved towards me, unshackling me and letting me stand for the first time in hours, maybe even days. He grabbed me by the collar, leading me to the corner of the room where a bucket sat. A bucket meant for painting. “Relieve yourself, little one. Then return to your spot and sit,” he commanded, standing behind me so I couldn’t get away. “Yes sir,” I replied, affirming my understanding of his orders. I pulled my boxers down, freeing my cock and pissing into the bucket. I felt like a prisoner of war or some shit. At least the bastard gave me normal people privileges. I finished, pulling my boxers up and rushing over to my spot on the floor quickly, not wanting to try and get away with loitering. I sat, putting my hands on my knees, awaiting instructions. “Good listening, little one,” he praised, walking over to where I was sitting on the floor waiting.

He re-shackled me, making sure I couldn’t get away from him. I kept my head bowed, not daring to even glimpse at him. “I’ll get you some food and water, little one. Would you like some juice too?” he asked, some twinge of kindness in his tone. “Yes sir. Please sir,” I replied, happy at the thought of something different. Happy that I could find some glimmer of hope in the littlest things in order to survive. He turned on his heel, exiting to complete the task of making me food and retrieving water and some sort of juice. I stopped myself from crying. All the painful thoughts of shame and guilt rising inside me. If I cried, I would give myself away and ultimately, I would die because of it.

I heard the man returning, with food and water no doubt. I composed myself, masking my face in impassivity as I gazed at the concrete floor. He walked over to me, sitting down. He placed a plastic cup of what I assumed was grape juice and a plate in front of me and a water bottle beside me. “You can eat now, little one. You can look around freely too,” he told me. I raised my head, pulling the plate closer to me. It was another sandwich and some potato chips. Lays at best guess. I picked up the sandwich, taking a bite while watching the man sitting in front of me. I swallowed, picking up the water bottle and taking a sip of water.

I ate my food in silence, no other sounds besides my chewing and swallowing. I saved the juice for last, taking a tentative sip before identifying the taste. It was grape juice. I drained the small plastic cup, setting it back down on the floor gently. “Thank you, sir,” I told him, grateful for the juice. He smiled, “you are welcome, little one.” He shifted, pulling the keys out of his pocket. He unchained me, watching me cautiously. I sat there, frozen to the spot. “Come with me, little one,” he ordered, waiting for me to stand. I followed him, letting him lead me to the other side of the room. He gestured to a small cot, wanting me to lay down on it.

I laid down, following the silent command. He picked up a shackle that was attached to the end of the bed. He clamped it to my ankle before clamping another to my wrist. I could still turn on the bed, but I couldn’t get off of it. “Go to sleep, little one,” the man ordered softly. “Yes sir,” I replied quietly, my legs aching from all the kneeling and sitting. He exited the room, the room going dark. I stared into the darkness, trying to gather my thoughts. I thought about what it felt like to sleep in Aaron’s arm, my eyes watering at the thought that I would never live to experience that again.

* * *

I was back in my spot, kneeling on the concrete floor, lost in thought. The man had woken me up early to fuck my mouth before letting me piss and eat. I was trying to think about anything. Anything but being violated and trapped in a basement or bunker with a man who thinks he owns me. My knees ached from being directly on the hard floor. I was thinking about my team, my body physically drained from stress and lack of sleep. I was emotionally broken. _I want to cut. I need to cut. I need to get out of here. I need to get away. Where is my team? Are they close to finding me? I hope they are._ I started praying in my mind, hoping that if god was up there, he would make this pain stop.

I recited music in my head, the piece Appalachian Spring playing in my head. I remembered the entire piece. I thought back to when I had a nightmare and Aaron comforted me. Copland. Safe word. I could hear his voice, his praises in my ear. I smiled internally; my face still blank on the floor like the day previous. I tried to carry the memories of Aaron with me as I kneeled, the hours slow and monotonous. The pain in my knees grew but I didn’t dare to move. I was too terrified of what the man would do. As long as I did what he said then I could get through this. I just had to follow orders.

I heard footsteps and the turning of the doorknob. The man was back from work. I blinked and the time had passed. How often did I phase in and out of dissociative headspaces? Does it even matter? Would it ever matter? I didn’t really know. I could sense him approaching, his demeanor one of frustration. _My small amount of luck has run out, hasn’t it?_ I swallowed, preparing myself to face his rage. “Little one,” he growled out, clearly upset by something. “Y-yes sir?” I said in a quizzical tone. Fear loomed over me, sickness spreading in my gut. “I’m upset. Someone came by my office today asking about you. I want to mark you so that they know your mine,” he told me, his words clipped. His self-control was slowly chipping away, which was not good for me.

I heard a knife exit its socket in a pocketknife. I felt myself tense up, fear coursing through my veins. “Sit down with your legs crossed, little one,” he ordered firmly. I complied without hesitation, no matter how much I wanted to hesitate. He pushed up the leg of my boxers, placing the blade of his knife to my thigh. He started cutting. He pulled back after a minute, the number 6 carved into my now bleeding thigh. He smudged the blood with his finger, watching it ooze out of me. He was enjoying my bleeding. He made another cut above the six, smudging that blood too.

After that we went through our normal routine. At least for the first few minutes. He fucked my mouth roughly, cumming in my mouth again before making me swallow. He gave me food and more grape juice. I liked that I got juice. It gave me something small to look forward to in this torturous prison. But his mood shifted, his frustration from his day cracking his self-control. He unchained me. “Bed,” he ordered, his voice revealing his small amount of anger. I moved to the bed, kneeling beside it. He grabbed me by the collar and threw my on my stomach, pulling my ass over the edge of the bed. _NO. NOT AGAIN. NEVER AGAIN. PLEASE NO. THIS ISN’T HAPPENING._

I heard his belt unbuckle and his zipper. I could feel the material of his pants against my lower leg. He pulled my boxers down roughly. I was too terrified to move. Fear making me freeze up, my instincts breaking. “I’m going to take you now, little one. You can make noise. Wouldn’t want your friends to get bored while they watch,” he hissed. I was starting to shake, panic surging through me. I couldn’t get myself to move. _NO. WHERE IS MY TEAM? ARE THEY GOING TO FIND ME? PLEASE STOP THIS. PLEASE. PLEASE. PLEASE._ I felt the tip of his cock pressed against me before I cried out in pain, his cock shoving into me.

I screamed, the sound ripping out of my lungs. He thrusted in and out roughly, ignoring my cries and screams. Anger surged inside me; the remembrance of things past. But I could do nothing. I was nothing. I kept screaming, my breath coming out heavy and panicked. I begged for him to stop. He showed me no mercy, ripping me open and taking pleasure from my rape. I could feel the warm tears slip down my cheeks, my body terrified and angry and in pain. _AARON. WHERE IS AARON? PLEASE SAVE ME. SOMEONE PLEASE SAVE ME._

I felt him buck into me, his strokes stuttering as he came inside me. He pulled out, leaving me broken and sobbing on the small cot. “I’ll be back in the morning to check on you, little one.” The door slammed shut and the room went dark. I sobbed in the darkness, my entire body in pain. _Did my team just watch me get raped? Are they close to finding me? Will they ever find me?_ I sobbed until I had nothing left. I curled into a ball, my body feeling hollow and numb.

* * *

My days were like that for so long. I couldn’t keep track of the time or how long I had been trapped in that gray, cold, concrete room. The man returned every day to rape me. Taking me and ripping me apart. Leaving me bruised and broken. Each time telling me to scream so that my team could hear me. I had nothing left anymore. I just kneeled or sat or stood or laid emotionless. My spirit was broken, my body physically exhausted and on the brink of collapse. The only thing that kept me alive were the thoughts of Aaron and my team.

I prayed every night. Begging god that Morgan would bust down the door and end the torture. I couldn’t take much more. I was wrecked. I had abandoned all thoughts of happiness and I clung blindly to hope. I wished that it would stop. The days passed slowly, the minutes slipping away. I could feel my resolve breaking down, my mind accepting that I would die in this concrete room or turn up murdered by this fucked up man. Everyday I slipped closer to the acceptance of his dominance and ownership over me. The collar left bruises and marks on my neck from being grabbed. I never once disobeyed the man. Ever. I was terrified of what he might do. _Things can always get worse._

Then one night, it happened. The end came. “I’m going to take you, little one. You know the drill by now, don’t you?” he said, triumph lacing his voice. He was enjoying me breaking down. Becoming more perfect for him. “Yes sir,” I squeaked, fear tightening inside me. He pushed my head down into the cot, his cock shoving inside me. I screamed into the cot, my throat burning. I heard a noise above me, but I couldn’t focus on it, I was too busy thinking about the pain coursing through me. He shoved into me, grunting as he tore me open again and again. I cried out, the sound wrenching from my throat. Then it happened. The best words rang out clear in the room.

“FBI! Back away from that man!” It was Morgan. Morgan was here. At least I thought so. _Please be real. Please be real_. I felt the man pause, registering Morgan’s presence in the cold room. The man pulled out of me, adjusting himself but leaving me broken and crying on the cot. He pulled me up, holding a knife to my throat. I could see my entire team standing before me, guns drawn and pointed. Each of them trying to get a shot. I let out a small noise of triumph. I had made it. I had survived to at least see them once more before I die. I knew they were good shots so I wouldn’t suffer if I got caught in some sort of crossfire.

I could feel the tension hanging in the air, anger coursing through everyone in the room. I just sagged against this man, not listening to the words he was exchanging with my teammates. I was too tired and excited that I was still alive to see them to care. I was broken. I needed a shower and a hospital. I needed food and water. I needed anything that wasn’t concrete and cold. I needed real clothes and my gun and my credentials. I needed to return back to normal.

I felt the man release me, my body falling to the floor with a thud. I didn’t have the strength to get up and move. I registered Morgan cuffing the man and handing him to another cop before his attention turning to my body, cold and barely breathing on the concrete floor. I was still alive. I had done it. I had won.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.


	21. Emancipation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath of Reese's kidnapping. The team is super wholesome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: rape, nightmares, thoughts of self-harm/suicide
> 
> I don't know how to feel about this chapter. ALSO! Should I do a chapter from Hotch's POV or no? I just want to write what people would enjoy within my story.
> 
> Happy reading!!

“The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion.”  
-Albert Camus

* * *

I was laying on the cold, hard concrete floor, my body heavy and tired from being violated so constantly. My eyelids felt heavy, exhausted from everything. I didn’t try to move or stand. I was too tired. My breathing was shallow, my entire body weak. I registered the team looking at my nearly lifeless body. I felt contented by their presence in the concrete room. If I was going to die, then I would die content. With the knowledge that I had made it out alive. Pain coursed through every inch of me, my body burning from it. I registered the team standing over me, Hotch and Reid squatting down to make sure I didn’t need CPR or something like it.

“Reese? Reese, can you hear me?” Hotch asked, his words laced with fear. I could tell he was attempting to force calm; it wasn’t working. I barely moved my head as I nodded, trying to communicate that I could hear them. I opened my eyes, Reid’s face inches away from mine, his fingers checking my neck for a pulse. I could hear Hotch radioing for EMTs. “Reese, I need you to stay awake,” Reid stated, worry filling his voice. I was too tired to get a good look at his face to read his emotions. He was probably panicking. I heard people hurrying into the room, coming over to where my team was with me on the floor. Everything hurt. Everything. I watched Hotch and Reid stand and back away, letting the EMTs get to me to do their job.

“Sir, can you hear me?” a woman asked, moving to get things out of her medical bag. I was slurring, “yes.” I could hear my teammates exhaling, thanking whatever higher power they followed that I was forcing out words. I felt hands on my body, making me jump and try and shift away. “Please, no,” I croaked out; my mind still trapped in hellish thoughts. I watched the woman motion for her medical team to stand up, moving over to speak to Hotch who was clearly the team leader here. I curled into a ball on the floor, trying to protect my head from pure fear. The EMTs left the room, probably going to get something, the medical bags still next to me.

I was shaking on the cold floor, terrified out of my mind. I was too exhausted and emotionally broken to string a logical thought together, let alone calm myself down. “Ho-how l-long have I been h-here?” I stuttered, trying my best gather any sense of time and thought. “6 days,” Prentiss responded, her voice strained with deep ceded anger. I could sense it off all of them. They were all angry with both the unsub and themselves. “H-he said he left you a video feed to watch… did… d-did you actually…” my voice trailed off, broken and shaken. I saw Morgan’s hands ball into fists. Reid biting his bottom lip to restrain his words from falling out of his mouth. _They had. They had watched this man rape me._

And with that, I snapped. I couldn’t take anymore. I didn’t have the strength to hold back anymore. I had nothing left. _I am nothing._ I sobbed with what little I had in me. I heard footsteps and people returning. It was the EMTs. They had a stretcher this time, more prepared to carry me out of this hell hole. “Sir… we need to pick you up to get you out to the ambulance,” the woman from earlier said. I just sobbed, not even acknowledging them. I felt hands on me, picking me up and moving me. Then everyone was moving. Moving outside of wherever the hell we were. My body ached, everything throbbing and stinging from everything I had been subjected to.

It was light outside, the sun warm on my skin. I struggled to keep my eyes open. Finally, I just closed them, not fighting with the sun and exhaustion anymore. I didn’t have any extra strength to get through that. I felt the jolt of movement as I was lifted into an ambulance, the EMTs and someone from my team climbing inside. I struggled to open my eyes, trying to figure out who else was in here with me. It was Hotch. A very distraught Hotch. Guilt and shame ran through me, feeling as though I had been disloyal to him. I felt the leather band being cut from neck, letting me have more of a chance to breathe correctly. I inhaled as deeply as I could.

I looked over at Hotch, trying to get a read on him. “I’m sorry. I am so sorry,” I mumbled, still emotional from everything I had been through in the past 6 days. I felt guilty for not fighting back. Hotch shot back a puzzled and concerned look, having no idea as to why I was apologizing to him. He grabbed my hand, squeezing gently. “No, no. I am sorry,” he said, clearly feeling guilty for something that wasn’t his fault. I felt the sting of a needle pressing into my arm, the EMTs starting an I.V line. “Please tell me you can pin him for everything,” I practically begged. He used to be a prosecutor, he would know if he could be nailed and thrown in a prison cell for the rest of his life. “There is no way the charges won’t stick,” he told me.

I let out a small sigh of relief. The EMTs were still doing something to me, but I didn’t care. I just let them continue, flinching and thrashing occasionally. Hotch had flipped from my boss to my dominant pretty quickly. Aaron’s thumb stroked over the top of my hand, doing his best to soothe me while I was poked and prodded to no tomorrow. I shuddered, feeling a finger stroke over the cut on my thigh. The EMT backed off momentarily before trying to examine the wound again. I thrashed violently, trying to protect the cut from someone else’s attention. Aaron’s arms came around me, trying to still me. I was breathing hard, panic overtaking me but melting away quickly. I trusted my team with my life, even in panic.

“Hey, hey… you’re ok. It’s ok,” he said, holding me against him awkwardly. He looked at the EMT, “what do you need?” The EMT backed off, allowing space for Aaron to take over. “I need to clean the wound out and bandage it,” he explained, handing over medical supplies. I looked at the EMT with bewilderment. “You couldn’t have asked me to do that!?” I asked incredulously. The EMT shot me an exasperated look, “it’s my job to do it, sir.” I shot him a glare. Aaron released me, taking out an alcohol swab to clean the cuts and bandage them. “I can do it, boss,” I said seriously, trying to snatch the swab from him. I gave me one of his warning looks, making me back off even though I wasn’t happy about it.

He gave me a look of praise, silently telling me “good boy.” I knew the look. I leaned back, letting my back hit the stretcher. I felt Aaron’s hand pressing on my upper thigh, holding me still. The alcohol was cold, leaving my thigh stinging. A band aid was around the cut a moment later, his hand squeezing my upper thigh before letting go. The EMT driving glanced back, “we are one minute out, sir.” I rolled my eyes, just wanting to go to sleep. I felt the ambulance hit the curb, making me jolt. “Relax,” Aaron enunciated. I shot him another glare. He raised his eyebrows in response.

**  
I was sitting in a hospital bed, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep. Other than having a few deep cuts and bruises and as well as all the anal trauma from being raped, I was simply exhausted and would be out of the hospital in the next 1-2 days. Unfortunately, I knew that Hotch would put me on medical leave. Reid and JJ had managed to get my personal effects back, so thank god for that. I pulled my cellphone off the nightstand, clicking the power button and opening my text messages.

_Me: Come keep me company. I’m so damn bored._   
_Spencer Reid: Um… I don’t think Hotch will approve of that._   
_Me: I just got kidnapped and you’re worried about Hotch? Get in here, brainiac!_   
_Spencer Reid: Ok, ok. I’m coming._

A few seconds later a worried Spencer Reid stood in the door in front of an exasperated Aaron Hotchner. _If this is the game we are playing, so be it._ “Come on in genius. If you plan on chastising me, boss, do it later. I need boy wonder here to ramble so I can sleep,” I said, amused by my unit chief’s exasperation and glare when I finished my sentence. Reid stepped in the room cautiously, moving a chair over to my bed and sitting down, clutching his satchel. Reid’s eyes moved from my face to Hotch’s, clearly nervous about what was about to happen. “Non ora, Aaron,” I said, deadly serious. Reid looked at Hotch expectantly, waiting for an answer. Hotch looked at Reid, waiting for a translation.

“He said ‘not now, Aaron.’” Reid translated, understanding he was about to be a mediator between the two of us. “You need to rest, Reese. Not listen to Reid ramble and never get any sleep,” Hotch said, reciprocating my tone of voice. “Sto bene. Laschia che il ragazzo divaghi. Guiro che andro a dormire,” I said, my voice turning into a slight whine. I was tired and what better to sleep to than Reid talking about a book he memorized on the plane two months ago. “’I’m fine. Let the boy ramble. I swear I’ll go to sleep.’ Reid said quickly, looking at Hotch for a response. Hotch sighed, massaging his temples. I knew he was trying to take care of me but seriously, I wasn’t going to be able to sleep anyways. I raised my eyebrows, prompting a response. “Per favore,” I pleaded. I knew he knew what that meant.

Hotch threw his hands up, giving in. “Fine. But you need to sleep. Don’t have a conversation,” he ordered, his face stern. “Grazie!” I said, happy that he had given in so easily. He lingered in the doorway before walking out and shutting the door. “You speak Italian?” Reid asked, clearly surprised. I nodded, a grin on my face. “Yep. I’ve been waiting for a convenient time to let everyone know,” I informed him happily. “Parli un’altra lingua? (do you speak any other languages?)” Reid asked, clearly happy that I took the time to speak another language. I shook my head no. “Well, Dr. Reid, maybe one day you can teach me another language. But for now, tell me how everyone else is holding up,” I said, smiling at him. “But Hotch said-“ I cut him off before he could even get finish, “I don’t give a damn what Hotch said. I’ll let you ramble as soon as I find out how my team is handling this.”

He nodded, swallowing before responding, “everyone is taking it kind of hard. Especially Hotch. He feels really guilty.” I gave nodded, “Hotch tell you that or did you profile it?” He shot me a puzzled look. “Does Hotch seem like he would just sit and down and start talking with me about his feelings?” He asked somewhat sarcastically. “Yeah, you’re right. Bad question. Anything else?” I asked, hungry for information. Reid nodded, taking a book out of his satchel, “Morgan wants to strangle the guy. And Garcia is here, by the way. So just be ready for that.” I nodded, letting my head rest against the pillow propping my neck up, “read away, boy wonder.” And with that I fell into unconsciousness.

* * *

I jolted awake, screaming and begging for ‘it’ to stop into the darkness of my hospital room. Before I knew it my entire team and some nurses were in my room, trying to figure out why I was screaming. I was covered in sweat, my breathing uneven and heavy. My hands were knotted tightly in the sheets, my eyes straining to come into focus. A part of me was still trapped in the nightmare, the other fighting to pull me out of it. I felt the acidic burn of bile in my throat and mouth, making me swallow. I gasped for air, trying to catch my breath. “Are you ok sir? Sir?” the nurse asked, standing at the end of my bed.

I lightened my grip on the sheets, looking over to Hotch, silently asking him to clear the room so I could speak to him. He nodded, trying to clear the room while I dealt with the nurses. “Y-yeah… yeah I’m ok. Just a nightmare. I’m fine…” I said, still panting. I jerked my head in Aaron’s direction, “can he stay. He’s my boss and I need to speak with him.” The nurse pursed her lips, debating whether or not that was a wise decision. I pleaded with her with my eyes, hoping she would except. She looked over at Aaron before looking at me, nodding and motioning for the other nurses to exit the room with her. Aaron shifted, letting them pass before closing the door and walking over to the vacated chair next to my bed.

I felt my throat tightening, sobs threatening to overtake my body. I bit my lower lip, trying to keep the oncoming emotions inside. Aaron took a seat, scooting the chair up to be as close as he could possibly be to me. He took one of my hands in his own, squeezing gently. I felt so guilty. So sick. So unclean. It felt like there was razor wire coiled around my neck, my throat dry and sore. I tried so hard to contain the painful feelings inside me. I looked at Aaron’s face, his eyes full of terror and concern and anger. It broke me. I felt a tear fall from my eyes, the dam breaking and the flood overtaking my body and mind. I let out a strangled cry, still trying to contain it to no avail. “Can I hold you?” he asked, his voice gentle and sweet. I just nodded, my throat too tight to speak any further.

He pulled me into an awkward hold, his chin resting on top of my head, letting me cry into his chest. His hand stroked down my back, his other holding the back of my head. I felt his heart beating against my cheek, his heart rate steady and calm. My entire body was shaking, my arms around his torso, gripping him as though he was going to evaporate into thin air. Sobs racked my body, my breathing coming out heavy with each heave of my system. “It’s ok baby. You’re safe now. You’re safe. I won’t let anyone get to you as long as I’m sitting here,” he whispered into my hair. I gripped him tighter, my knuckles going white from the amount of force I was using. “I’m not going to leave, sweetheart. I’m staying here,” he told me, feeling how tight my arms were around him. I relaxed my grip, letting him breathe more considering how tight I was squeezing him. “If someone comes in here, we could lose our jobs, you know,” I mumbled against his chest.

He chuckled lightly, making me relax more. I couldn’t sob anymore even though I was still somewhat tense. I smiled into his chest, not wanting to break physical contact with him. “What time is it?” I asked, my voice hoarse. “6:34. The sun is about to rise,” he replied, holding me firmly in his arms. “I’m sorry,” I said, guilt re-emerging inside me. I could tell he was confused so I took the liberty of explaining. “I… I let him…” I started, my voice breaking. I felt him stiffen for a moment, trying to bury his anger. “No. What he did isn’t your fault and I will never blame you for that,” he said, a slice of tension in his voice. I quieted, trying to shrink down smaller. We just stayed that way, the silence looming around us, his hand still stroking up and down my back.

“Do you need anything?” he asked against my hair. I didn’t answer, feeling too tired and drained to speak. I didn’t want to move my head either, feeling comfortable nuzzled into his chest. “Answer me, baby boy,” he ordered softly. I let out a small whine, not wanting to talk anymore. “Is that a yes?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. I pulled back reluctantly, looking him in the face as I shook my head no. I gave him a small smile, making him give me a small smile back. “You need to go back to sleep,” he told me, his eyes full of warmth and contentment. I let out a small groan, not wanting to go to sleep and have him leave. “Baby, you need rest. The faster you rest the faster you can get out of the hospital,” he told me, tilting his head and raising his brows. I glared in defiance, not wanting to sleep. _I really just want to shower._

“ _Baby boy_ …” he warned, not in the mood to deal with my stubbornness. I glared but laid back down. He had a point. The quicker I got rest, the quicker I could go back home. “Good boy. I’ll stay here until you go back to sleep,” he informed me, watching me shift around to get comfortable. I was already tired so it wouldn’t be long before I fell asleep. I fought sleep, trying to be stubborn for as long as possible. My eyelids grew heavier, my body falling into sleep.

* * *

I woke up for the second time that morning at 9:30. I hit the nurse call button, just wanting to know what the hell I could do. I wanted to take a shower and eat and change into real clothes. “Hello Mr. Benson. How are you this morning?” a young woman asked as she entered my room. “I’m fine… I’m sorry, what’s your name?” I asked politely. She smiled as she came to check my vitals, clamping a reader or whatever the hell it was on my pointer finger. “Julia,” she replied, looking down at my medical chart. I sat quietly as she worked, letting her go about her business in my room. “Excuse me, Julia? When are visitors’ hours?” I asked, wanting to get some clothes and things to shower with.

“In a half hour. Do you want me to turn people away?” she asked, writing down some numbers on the clipboard she held in her hand. “No. No. I just want to know when I can talk to my team. They have been here as long as I have and I don’t want them to worry,” I explained, itching to talk to my team. “Can I shower and change into real clothes?” I asked. She nodded, going back to what she was doing. “Shower is right in here,” she told me, pointing to the door down the small hallway in my room, “you can shower whenever you want and change into real clothes. Do you want me to bring you some food?” I nodded, “yes, please. Thank you.” I watched her exit.

I got up, my legs sore and aching from tiredness. I walked around the small room, pacing back and forth. I did this for 15 minutes, interrupted by Julia returning with a tray of food. She set it on the nightstand, a bottle of orange juice next to it. “Thank you,” I said as she turned and left. I kept pacing, waiting for my team to come into my room and talk to me. I was sitting down to eat when they finally made their entrance. They all filed into my small room, standing on the edges to make room for each other. “Hey guys,” I said, a smile on my face.

Garcia was the first to speak, not giving anyone else a chance. “Mini boy wonder! How are you? Do you need anything?” she said, rambling because of how worried she was. “Slow down, baby girl. Give him a minute to get a word in,” Morgan told her, chuckling. “I’m doing just fine. Well, physically, anyways,” I stated, picking up the bottle of orange juice and opening it. “Buongiorno, vecchio,” I said, smiling at Rossi who was standing in the farthest corner of the room. He shot me a look of surprise. “Buongiorno. Da quando parli Italiano?” he asked, still shocked. “I learned how to speak Italian in college, thank you very much,” I informed him, sipping my orange juice.

I recoiled at the acidity, making everyone chuckle and lighten up. I picked up the apple on my tray, biting into it. “When do they plan on freeing me?” I asked sarcastically. Hotch rolled his eyes, his face impassive like it usually was, “this afternoon.” I let out a sigh of relief, not wanting to be in the hospital for very long. JJ stepped forward, my go bag in her hands. “We brought you some fresh clothes,” she said, dropping the bag next to my bed. I put my hands together like I was praying, “bless you, Jennifer Jareau.” She let out a small laugh, grinning at me. They all were. I dropped the apple core on the tray, leaning down to grab clothes out of my go bag.

I started to grab a pair of jeans before Emily spoke up, “you sure you want to wear jeans in the hospital there, Reid 2.0?” I shot her a mocking glare, making Derek and Emily smile. I opted for a pair of black sweatpants and a purple t-shirt instead. I made sure I had fresh boxers and a razor to shave the stubble on my face. I stood, setting my things on the bed and moving to hug all the members of my team. “Alright, now leave me alone while I shower and fix my face,” I said, throwing my hands up to motion them out. They filed out, talking amongst each other. I snatched my clothes off the bed and went into the small bathroom, turning on the hot water and stripping out of my hospital gown.

I stepped under the water, sighing as I rubbed away the dirt and sweat from the last 6 days of my life. I froze, fear at the thought of the past few days causing me to seize up. I felt a dark sickness spread through my gut, the urge to drop to the floor and cry becoming strong. I held myself together, pushing my mind back into a better space, but still struggling. I stepped out of the shower, drying myself off with the rough white towels the hospital provided. I pulled my clothes on quickly, stepping in front of the mirror to see my face. I lathered my face with shaving cream, making sure I covered all the course hair. I picked up my razor, taking my time. I didn’t want to cut myself. I paused, washing off the razor after I finished shaving. _Cut. Just cut. You deserve it after what you’ve been through._ I shook my head, physically trying to push the thought out of my mind.

I stepped out of the room, stumbling when I saw Aaron standing in the room, clearly waiting for me to return. My steps faltered before I continued walking to where my bag was on the floor. I sat on the edge of the bed, throwing my toiletry case into the black duffle bag. My go bag was in a tactical style, the name Benson on a black patch that was velcroed to it. I zipped my bag, standing and sauntering over to where Aaron was standing, his eyes following me as I came to him. I stopped in front of him, my hands sliding around his waist, my head coming to rest on his chest. “Why are you here?” I asked, puzzled as to why he was in my hospital room.

“The others went to get their things from the hotel and to grab breakfast. I stayed behind to make sure you were ok,” he explained, his arms coming around my back to hold me close to him. I hummed against his chest, feeling relaxed by the mere presence of him. He slid one of his hands in his pocket, pulling out a small bag of something. I pulled back to examine it. _Skittles. This guy bought me skittles from the damn vending machine._ I smiled up at him, taking the red packet he offered me. “What are these for?” I asked, amused by his sweet gesture. He shrugged, returning my smile, “because you deserve them.” I rolled my eyes, sticking them in my pocket. “Thank you, Aaron,” I said, my appreciation genuine. I liked when he did sweet things like that. He kissed the top of my head, “you’re welcome, baby boy.”

I let out a contented breath, happy at his use of my pet name. “What are you thinking about?” he asked, curiosity seeping into his words. I blushed, feeling embarrassed by my simple enjoyment of his use of an intimate nickname. “Nothing,” I replied. He smiled, pushing me for an answer, “no, it’s not nothing. Tell me.” I shook my head, letting out a small laughed. “Tell me,” he persisted playfully. I gave in, entertained by his playfulness. “I just enjoy your pet name for me, that’s all,” I told him. I stiffened slightly, the sick memory of the man’s name for me rushing to the front of my mind. He furrowed his brow, noticing the change in my behavior. “What’s wrong?” he asked, worry lacing his voice.

I swallowed, clinging to him tighter. “That man… he used a name for me, too. The thought of it just makes me shudder. But I like it when you use nicknames for me. Mostly because I know you won’t kill me or anything crazy,” I explained quietly. I felt timid. He paused, taking in a deep breath before letting his thoughts exit him in the form of words. “Would you tell me if you didn’t like me calling you a certain name?” he asked, his face becoming unreadable. I nodded. He raised his eyebrows; a silent order for me to respond verbally. “Yes,” I stated bluntly. It was the truth. He tilted his head, prompting me to quickly respond, “yes sir.” He smiled down at me, kissing the top of my head again. “That’s my boy.”

I hummed against his chest at the endearment and praise, finding it comforting. His endearments were didn’t trigger any sense of panic unlike the man did. Aaron was a protector and someone I had known for a while. His words and praises relaxed me, taking over my thoughts and fighting some of the darkness. I found comfort in him. I wasn’t afraid to admit that. It was the simple truth. I let go of him, not happy about it, but I still did. I sat on the edge of the bed, taking out the pack of skittles and opening them, popping a few into my mouth. “Why skittles?” I asked, trying to start a conversation. I didn’t want to talk about anything serious right now, but I still wanted to talk to him.

He stilled, thinking about it for a moment before shrugging, “I don’t know. I just took a guess at what you might like.” I nodded, pleased by the fact that he wanted to find out what I liked. He walked over to the nightstand by the bed, picking up a bottle of water I didn’t know was sitting there and opening it, handing it to me. “Drink,” he ordered softly. I scowled but did as I was told. “Why the resistance to hydrate?” he asked teasingly. I shot him a small mocking glare. “Because you told me to,” I said honestly, finding defying him entertaining. He sat next to me on the bed, leaning over to whisper in my ear, “I know, sweetheart, but right now you need to behave for daddy.”

I looked at him, my eyes wide, my facial expression one of sheer shock. My cock twitched appreciatively at the words. I set the skittles down and screwed the lid back on the water, setting it down too. I put pressure on my thigh, ensuring I wouldn’t get a damn hard on. He had gotten up, standing and laughing because of the look on my face. My brain had stuttered to a stop, my thoughts interrupted by the sexual comment. Aaron had acted like he didn’t even say what he said, feigning innocence and laughing because of my shock. When he finally stopped laughing, he had a smirk on his face, making me glare at him. I decided that I would play up my bratty attitude out of sheer retaliation. _Smart ass._

We were interrupted by a nurse. “You are free to check out now, Mr. Benson,” she informed me. I nodded, picking up my go bag and digging through it for a pair of socks and running shoes. I put them on quickly, moving out of the room to fill out the discharge paperwork. Aaron was following behind me, waiting for me to finish what I was doing so that I could get in the SUV and get on the jet. I filled out everything handed to me, my hand signing things fast. I finally signed the last form, picking up my bag and walking to where Aaron was waiting by the exit. “Ready to go, sweetheart?” he asked, clearly happy to get me out of the hospital. “Let’s get out of here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! Next chapter is going to have a lot of wholesome Hotch and sweet moments between Reese and the team.


	22. Return Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath of Reese's kidnapping. Some italian banter and intimacy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy reading!!

“Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself.”  
-Leo Tolstoy

* * *

I waited in the front seat of the black, government issued SUV while Aaron put his go bag in the trunk with some of the others. We were outside a hotel in Austin, Texas. I felt out of place in comfy clothing while my team was dressed in work attire, exhausted from working a long case. I had my earbuds in, the sound of the rap artist NF pumping in my ears. I was currently listening to the song “Therapy Session” although I had put a long playlist of his music on shuffle. I tapped my fingers to the beat, resonating with the message of the song.

I watched Reid throwing his bag in the trunk in the front mirror, smiling to myself at the sight. The trunk closed, Reid getting in backseat of the SUV and Hotch getting in the driver’s seat. I glanced at Hotch before looking out the window, pedestrians and workers going about their day. I felt the car come to life underneath me, making me jump slightly. I regained my composure, not wanting to freak out Hotch or Reid. We pulled out of the parking lot, driving to the airstrip to board our flight back home to Quantico, Virginia. The beat of the song hummed in my ears, keeping my mind engaged. The song ended, another song playing quickly.

“HEY! LEAVE ME ALONE!” NF said, the violins and voices in the background keeping up with his words and pace. I started mouthing the words to myself, having memorized the song already. We stopped at an intersection, waiting for a green light and for traffic to cease. I kept tapping to the beat, my speed changing to keep up with changing pace. I glanced in the front mirror again, finding Reid engrossed in some old Russian novel. _Book worm. I wonder if that kid has ever read a book he didn’t like._ I scoffed at the thought, drawing Hotch’s attention. I felt his eyes on me, refusing to meet them. I turned to look out the window, trying not to give him the satisfaction of my attention. I was still in a bratty mood after his words in the hospital room.

I knew he could tell that’s what I was doing, Reid still none the wiser about what was happening between us. The car accelerated, turning onto another busy street. I noted the cars we passed and the people driving them, wondering who they were or what they were doing. Not that it mattered, I was simply curious. I watched the buildings pass by, taking in as much detail as I could. My brain was becoming somewhat overstimulated, an ache building in my skull. _Ugh. Not this shit again._ I let out an annoyed sigh, not in the mood to deal with a headache. I turned my head, looking at Hotch driving, his face impassive. We pulled into the airport, driving directly to the tarmac to board the jet.

I waited for the car to come to a complete stop, unbuckling my seat belt as Hotch turned the engine off. I opened my door, climbing out and walking to the back of the vehicle to open the trunk. I went to pull the door open, but I was cut off by Hotch, who bypassed me and opened it himself, grabbing both of our bags. I shot him an annoyed look, knowing I could carry my own bag but letting him do it. I stepped out of the way, letting Reid grab his stuff. I led the way to the jet, stepping up the short set of stairs quickly and boarding the cabin. I took a seat, waiting for everyone else to join me. Hotch opened the storage above us, shoving our bags in and then closing the door. He moved, sitting beside me and trapping me between him and the window.

Morgan was laughing with JJ, Garcia, and Prentiss when he boarded, a wide smile on his face. I didn’t hear them, my music playing in my ears. I didn’t really want to know either. Rossi slid in a seat in front of us, buckling his seatbelt and waiting for takeoff. I buckled my own seatbelt, tightening it so that I wouldn’t get thrown forward during our incline into the sky. I put my phone on airplane mode and changed the song, wanting to listen to something else. I settled on Alec Benjamin’s “Mind is a Prison.” The song was sorrowful yet hopeful betraying my own feelings. I zoned out, letting myself sink into numbness.

I felt the plane beginning to move, rolling to our runway where we could taxi. I fidgeted with my hands, waiting for the greenlight to move around so that I could take two Tylenol and pass the hell out. Or overthink. Whichever came first. I felt off in a way I couldn’t describe. I made the mistake of showing it, forgetting to put on my mask and build my walls. I felt an earbud pop out of my ear, making me turn my head to look at Hotch. “What the hell, boss,” I muttered, irritated. He ignored my comment. “You are off for two weeks medical leave,” he asserted, his tone no-nonsense and final. I scowled, “I don’t need two weeks off, boss. I need like two _days_.” He scowled back. “It doesn’t matter. You have two weeks medical leave and a mandatory psych eval following your return,” he informed me.

An astonished look crossed my face before twisting into irritation. “Hotch. I’m fine. I swear. Please don’t make me stay at home for two weeks, please,” I pleaded with him to no avail. I let out an exasperated sigh, unhappy about his finality and power of will. Rossi was just watching us, impassive and seemingly bored. I looked at him, addressing him. “E un tale tiranno. Bastardo prepotente,” I said, clearly exasperated. Hotch looked up from his file, looking at me. “Did you just call me a bastard in Italian?” he asked, a bite of cold dominance in his voice. My eyes widened, remaining fixed on Rossi. The conversation on the other side of the aisle quieted, paying attention to Hotch and I.

Rossi was stifling his amusement at the growing situation. “Buona fortuna, ragazzo (good luck, kid),” he replied back. “Sono nei guai, vero? (I’m in a lot of trouble, aren’t I?)” I asked, my voice steady but amused. I could hear Prentiss translating what we were saying to JJ and Morgan, all of them trying not to laugh at my situation. Rossi simply nodded; his own face impassive as to not give us away. I looked at Hotch, his own face impassive. “Nope,” I lied, my eyes never breaking contact. I hoped I had controlled my micro expressions enough to get away undetected. His sharp brown eyes searched mine, profiling me. “You lied,” he stated bluntly. I remained impassive, not admitting to anything. “Did I?” I asked, trying to throw him off his game. His eyes took on a harder gleam, the others watching in amusement as we battled it out, trying to out profile each other.

“Yes. You forced calm after intial shock, hiding your true train of thought. You got goosebumps when I called out the lie,” he pointed out, his face still impassive and unwavering. I looked at Rossi, “questo ragazzo e troppo bravo in questo (this guy is too good at this),” I muttered in surrender. Prentiss laughed before translating to the others, causing them to laugh. I heard the pilot clear us to move around the cabin. Rossi grinned, “ha fatto practica (he’s had practice).” I rolled my eyes, sighing. I watched the others stand, moving to stretch out in their respected areas to get some sleep. “Can you move please? I need to take some Tylenol before I get some sleep,” I asked Hotch, my eyes shifting to break contact. He nodded, getting up to let me into the aisle.

I wasn’t very surprised when he followed me to the mini bar, knowing that 1 of 2 things was about to happen. “I’m in trouble for that, huh?” I asked, opening the cabinet to grab the first aid kit. He smirked, “probably.” I shot him a puzzled look, prompting him to explain silently. I unzipped the first aid kit, snatching the Tylenol and opening it. “I’m not going to punish you, even if you deserve it. You aren’t ready to get back on that horse yet,” he explained. I sighed in relief, agreeing with him. I wasn’t up for anything extremely sexual or kinky. He chuckled at my relief, finding it amusing. I opened a bottle of water, knocking back the pills. “Are you ok?” he asked, still somewhat concerned. I nodded.

He did the head tilt thing, silently telling me to answer verbally. “Yes. I’m fine. Can I go to sleep now?” I asked, not in the mood for anymore questions. He jerked his head back, ordering me to walk back into the cabin and get some sleep. I walked back to my seat, Hotch following me and sitting beside me. I leaned against the window, shutting my eyes. I felt the small vibrations from the plane against the window. It really didn’t help my headache. I let out a small groan, feeling tired and aggravated by my inability to sleep. Hotch looked at me, stopping what he was doing to make sure I was ok. “I thought you said you were ok?” he asked, trying to catch me in another lie. I scowled, “yeah, I just can’t sleep because of this damn headache.”

Hotch shifted to see if the couch was vacant. It sure was. No one had claimed it yet. “Go sleep on the couch,” he suggested, getting up to let me move. I moved reluctantly, not really wanting to move from where I was. I enjoyed being next to him, even when I was being a brat. I flopped onto the couch, curling into a tight ball. I glanced at Hotch, his eyes focused on the papers in front of him. I just stared for a few seconds, admiring how damn good he looked. I laid my head down, shutting my eyes. I felt comfortable, relaxed where I was on the couch. I drifted to sleep, the subtle hum of the plane under me.

**

  
“Hey,” Hotch said gently, nudging me awake, “we are about to land. You need to wake up.” I groaned, still tired. Hotch smiled down at me, entertained by my reluctance to move. I laid there for a second, trying to find the will to move from where I was. I shifted, stumbling as I stood. Hotch reached out, gripping me and steadying me. I nodded my thanks, sauntering over to my original seat and sitting down. “Sleep well?” Rossi asked. I just looked at him, not responding while Hotch sat down. I put my seatbelt on, ready for landing. Hotch was taking a break from his reports and paperwork. I looked out the window, Quantico under us as we came into its airspace. I sighed, feeling tired despite sleeping the entire flight.

The plane landed smoothly, slowing as we approached the end of the runway. We moved onto the tarmac, getting the go ahead to get out of our seats. Hotch got up, letting me out of my seat. He got both of our bags, not letting me take my own bag from him. I scowled at him but didn’t argue about it. “We had a rough week and a half. Go home early,” Hotch ordered, knowing everyone was exhausted and in need of sleep. I heard the others sigh, happy that they could leave as soon as we got to Quantico. The door to the plane opened, all of us filing onto the tarmac and getting into SUVs.

I slid in the backseat this time, Morgan and Rossi in the front seat, Reid beside me. We rode back to the academy in silence, everyone too tired to attempt to make small talk. I looked out the window, zoning out until we pulled into the academy parking lot and parked. I got out of the car, waiting for Hotch to pull up in the other SUV that had my bag. “Are you all good kid?” Morgan asked, waiting with me. I just nodded, too tired to put more effort into talking to him. He nodded back, accepting my answer and waiting with me. Hotch parked next to us, stepping out of the SUV and opening the trunk. I snatched my bag before Hotch could, a look of triumph on my face.

I started walking towards the building, needing to do some things before I took a two-week leave. Hotch caught up quickly, not happy that I was carrying my own bag. “I’ll take you home after I deal with a few things,” he said, not giving me any options. I was fine with that. I didn’t want to make any decisions. I just let it happen. We walked beside each other in comfortable silence.

* * *

I stepped into my apartment, Aaron behind me. “You didn’t have to walk me up here,” I said, walking to my bedroom. He followed. I threw my bag across my bedroom before flopping onto my bed. I heard Aaron kick off his shoes, his footsteps coming near me. The bed dipped after a moment, Aaron laying beside me, his arm moving to pull me into his chest. I nuzzled my head into his chest, his dress shirt rubbing against my face. I placed my hand against his chest tentatively, feeling his heart under my palm. It beat steadily. I let out an exhalation, a shudder moving up my spine for no real reason.

“Daddy’s got you baby boy,” he said softly, his fingers running through my hair. I let out a small, pitiful whimper. I felt relaxed, settling into a submissive state. “You need to eat something before you sleep,” he told me, making me let out an unhappy groan. I didn’t feel like eating. “Such a bratty little boy, but I’m not taking it. You need to eat, and you will,” he asserted, amusement peaking out of his tone. I looked up at him, glaring defiantly. He raised his eyebrows, rising to my challenge of wills. “Don’t start with me, sweetheart,” he warned me. My glare dissipated, deciding that I would rather do what he told me than be stubborn.

He leaned in, kissing my forehead before pulling back to get off the bed. “Good boy,” he praised, slipping off the bed before grabbing my ankles and pulling me towards him. I let out a surprised squeak, making him laugh. He hauled me to my feet, letting me get my balance before leading me down the hall to my living room. I watched as he looked through my fridge and cabinets, trying to find something suitable for a meal. He wouldn’t find it. “Can we just Uber Eats some cheap Chinese and eat on my couch?” I asked, hoping he would agree. “Sure, but I’m paying,” he said firmly, leaving no room for arguments. I just threw my hands up, acquiescing.

I pulled out my phone, opening the mobile app and taking down my order before handing Aaron the phone to let him record his order and pay. I sat on the couch while he finished up. He sauntered over to the couch, sitting down and patting his lap. I climbed into it happily, letting his arms come around me. I rested my head on his shoulder, smiling like an idiot. “Happy now, brat,” he teased. I blushed, nodding shyly. He tilted my head back, kissing me on the forehead. I shut my eyes, content. My arms wrapped around his stomach, my eyes opening before closing again. “Sleepy baby boy?” he asked, his voice soft. I nodded. I felt tired even after how much I had already slept. My head dropped back against his shoulder, making him laugh. “I don’t think I’ll be awake when the damn food gets here,” I postulated.

Aaron scoffed, “then I’ll just wake you up.” I let out a growl at the thought, still not in the mood to eat. My resistance to the idea made Aaron chuckle. “Please don’t do that,” I complained. “Last time I checked I’m the dominant one here. What I say goes, sweetheart, you know that,” he retorted, his voice playful. I shoved at him, “not always.” He let out a throaty laugh, finding that hilarious and making me glare. “Aw, my boy thinks he’s in charge. That’s cute,” he mocked, making me shove him again. I tried to shift and push him down on the couch, but he noticed before I could, twisting and gripping my wrists to stop me. “That won’t work, baby boy. But nice try,” he teased, letting go of my wrists. “It’s not my fault you’re bigger than me,” I muttered.

He smirked, finding this whole conversation incredibly amusing and humorous. I shifted on his lap and wrapped my arms around his torso again, nuzzling back into him. He hummed his approval of my eagerness to wrap around him. “But I like that you are bigger than me,” I told him. He smiled, enjoying that I liked seemingly irrelevant things about him. “I know, sweetheart,” he started, moving so he could talk directly in my ear, “daddy knows.” I twitched at his words, my eyes widening in shock. “If you keep doing that, it’s going to be hard to not stroke one out when you leave later,” I said, teasing him. He kissed the sensitive spot behind my ear, “it’s ok if you do. I don’t want to touch you like that until you are ready, and you aren’t.”

He was right. I wasn’t ready for that, no matter how horny I could get. I really wasn’t horny. I was just in a mood for some sort of sexual banter and playing around. There was a knock at the door, interrupting us. “That should be the food,” I said, getting off his lap and walking to the door. I cracked it before opening it all the way to receive the plastic bag with our food in it. “Thanks man,” I said to delivery guy before closing the door and walking over to the couch. I set the bag on the coffee table, pulling out the takeout boxes and opening them to find which half of the meal was mine. I handed Aaron his box and some chopsticks; then I proceeded to sit on the floor against the coffee table and couch and start eating my own meal.

Aaron was chuckling as he went to start eating. “What?” I asked, confused as to what was so funny. He took a second to compose himself enough to tell me. “You didn’t want to eat at all and now you’re the one trying to eat first,” he said, still chuckling. I shot him a glare as I raised my chopsticks to my mouth to start eating. I took a bite and then set the box down, flipping him the bird. He raised his eyebrows, his gaze following me as I stood and walked into my kitchen, retrieving two glasses and a bottle of whiskey. I poured two drinks and placed the bottle back in the door of my fridge, grabbing a bottle of water. I carried the two glasses and water into the living room, putting them on the coffee table. I pushed one of the glasses towards him, picking up my own and taking a tentative sip.

He left his on the table, too engrossed in eating his food. I started eating again. The room was quiet, our focus on the food in our hands rather than on conversation. I noticed that we often ate in silence like this. It made me think about eating in that damn bunker. I felt sick at the thought. I practically dropped my takeout box on the table, rushing to my feet and down the hall. I heard Aaron’s voice behind me, “Reese!” I ignored him, trying to get away from the sick feeling settling inside me. I moved around to the far side of the bed, collapsing on the floor next to it and curling into a tight ball. I could sense Aaron in the room, but I didn’t care. My heads came over my head, protecting it as though he was about to try and kick me. I strangled breath escaped my lungs, my body entering a state of fear and panic.

I could practically feel the man’s hands on me, his breath on my body. I shuddered, my breath picking up as I panicked. I heard his voice in my ears. _**“I want you to scream little one. Let all your friends hear you while I take you.”**_ I started begging, my voice hoarse and tight. “Please no. No. Stop, please just stop. PLEASE.” I could tell Aaron was standing over me, watching me in silence. For once he didn’t know what to do. I thrashed on the floor, trying to stop the images playing in my head. My hairs were standing on end, goosebumps appearing on my limbs. I let out a small scream, my body convulsing from remembered pain. “Reese!” Hotch snapped out, trying to get my attention. I stilled. I was shaking, tears welling in my eyes. _God, stop crying kid. Be a man, damn it._ I uncurled slightly, my eyes finding his before snagging on anything else they could find.

Shame loomed over me. Guilt wasn’t far behind. “I’m going to pick you up,” he told me, moving down to pick me up. I just let it happen, my body lax against his arms and chest. He laid me on the bed gently, sitting next to me and running his fingers through my hair. I lifted my head up and shifted to lay it on his thigh. I was still shaking, my fear trying to keep me trapped in dark thoughts. “What’s wrong, Reese? You need to tell me so I can help try and fix it,” he said, his voice soft. I took in a shaky breath, trying to put some semblance of thought together. I didn’t know what to say or how to start this conversation. “Th-the silence… I can’t. It reminds me of h-him,” I stuttered out, my voice shaky. Aaron let out a sigh, one of relief it seemed. “Do you want to eat more? You should but I understand if you don’t,” he said, his voice still soft.

I thought about it, my emotions all thrown together. I didn’t really know what I wanted. “Do you want me to call the shots?” he asked when I didn’t answer. I nodded, “please.” He smiled down at me, running his fingers through my hair. We stayed like that for a few minutes, waiting for me to calm down. After a few minutes I turned, looking Aaron directly in the face and giving him a small smile. He smiled back down at me, seemingly relieved. “There’s my boy,” he said sweetly, “come on. Let’s finish eating so you can get some much-needed sleep.” I didn’t move. “Thank you,” I responded, grateful that he was being so gentle. He ruffled my hair, silently telling me ‘you’re welcome.’ I pushed to my feet, waiting for Aaron to tell me what he wanted me to do. His fingers interlaced with mine, leading me into my living room and to my couch. He picked up my remote and tossed it to me. I caught it deftly, giving him a puzzled look.

“Put something on. That way there will be noise while we eat if you don’t feel like talking,” he explained, moving into the kitchen with our food. I heard him open my cabinets to retrieve plates or bowls. I flicked the T.V. on, hitting the Netflix icon and loading my account. I decided on NCIS, letting the episode resume where it was left off. “Don’t you get enough of murders and psychopaths at work?” he asked jokingly. I lifted my hand, holding my middle finger in the air for a few seconds and listening for his reaction. He laughed and I dropped my hand, listening to Aaron doing things in my kitchen before returning my focus to the show. Aaron moved around to the front of the couch, holding out a bowl with my meal in it and a fork. I took them from him, setting my bowl in my lap and stabbed a piece of chicken.

I looked up to find Aaron waiting for something, his eyebrows raised and his arms across his chest. It didn’t take very long for me realize what he wanted. “Thank you,” I told him, shoving the piece of chicken in my mouth. “You’re welcome, baby boy,” he replied, walking back into the kitchen to retrieve his own meal. He sat on the opposite side of the couch, settling down with his own meal. He scowled, setting his bowl on the table and getting up. “What?” I asked, feeling anxious that he was annoyed by me or something. “I forgot to get you some water,” he said, still striding over to the fridge. I scowled to myself. “Don’t scowl like that, sweetheart. You need to hydrate,” he admonished. I looked back, glaring. “Damn profilers,” I muttered. He placed a bottle of water in front of me before sitting down and returning to his food.

I kept eating, watching my show and profiling every person that came on the screen. “Who do you think did it?” he asked, bringing a bite of fried rice to his mouth. I shrugged, swallowing the food in my mouth. “You can’t profile people in these shows and know who it did,” I said, feigning disapproval at the thought not knowing. He chuckled, making me look over at him. “You’re upset that you can’t profile fictional characters? That’s adorable,” he joked. “How many times can I flick you off in a day? Let’s find out,” I said, flipping him the bird for a third time. “Don’t get used to the privilege, brat,” he shot back, a smirk on his face. I rolled my eyes, faking offence, “I am not being a brat.” He laughed at that. He waited for me to swallow, obviously sitting on a comeback of his own and not wanting me to choke.

He shifted on the couch, leaning over to speak into my ear. “Don’t lie to daddy, baby boy. It doesn’t suit you,” he whispered, making me pause. I glared at him defiantly, making his face twist into a wolfish grin. My cock twitched in my sweats, making me glare at him harder. “Oh no, baby boy, don’t get any ideas. Daddy isn’t going to touch you. Once you eat, daddy’s going to put you to bed and that’s it,” he whispered, feigning innocence. I bit my bottom lip, trying not to get aroused. Aaron pulled back, his gaze returning to the screen and focusing there. I looked down at my food, not in the mood to eat anymore. I put it on the table, picking up my water and taking a long draft. I tried focusing on the show but found it impossible.

The episode finished and Aaron leaned over to pick the T.V. remote off the coffee table. He flicked the T.V. off. “You need sleep, baby boy. Come on,” he ordered, standing. I let out a small whine, no longer in the mood to sleep. I wanted to work or do something productive. I had been sleeping for a long time in the last few days and I felt like I was being lazy. “No, baby boy. I’m not doing this with you. Bed. Now,” he said sternly. I got up, moving over to him in a huff. “Good boy,” he praised, moving with me down the hallway, “you need sleep.” We entered my bedroom, the sound of the light switch flipping on filling the room. I tugged my shirt off, throwing it across the room. I took off my sweatpants, throwing those across the room too. I walked over to my bed, flopping on top of it.

“Get up so you can get under the sheets,” Aaron ordered. I simply groaned my complaint. Just because I didn’t want to sleep didn’t mean I wanted to move. “Someone’s in a bratty mood today,” Aaron teased, amused by my attitude. “Oh, you don’t say?” I shot back sarcastically. I felt the bed dip, Aaron sitting on the edge next to me. His fingers pinched the back of my thigh, making me let out a small squeak. “Get up so that you can lay down and go to sleep, sweetheart. Or I will pick you up and move you physically,” he said, his voice authoritative. I got up reluctantly, letting Aaron pull the sheets down for me to get into bed. He jerked his head, ordering me to get into bed silently. I slipped into bed, my head hitting the pillows and turning it to look at him. “Can you turn that lamp on and leave it on?” I asked timidly.

He nodded, turning on the lamp on my nightstand. “Can I ask why?” he asked back, completely serious. I pursed my lips, thinking about it. It felt stupid. “He… would leave me in the dark. Leave me sobbing and praying in the dark and I just… I don’t want to prompt another nightmare if I can help it,” I said, my tone tight with stress. He nodded, understanding my reasoning. “Are you going to be ok by yourself?” he asked, deadly serious. I groaned, feeling embarrassed. “Can I have my glock back?” I responded sarcastically. That broke through a piece of his impassive mask, making me smile. I liked that I could do that to him. “You have to sign for your gun. Now would be the time to buy that ankle holster, Benson.”

I recoiled, scowling at the use of my real name rather than a pet name. “Not a fan of the name I used, Benson?” he asked, amused. I glared at him in confusion. “Why are you calling me by my real name when we were having an intimate night?” I asked, still ridiculously confused. He grinned down at me, “because you were being a brat and needed an attitude adjustment.” I groaned; disapproval clear on my face. My eyelids felt heavy, my body more tired than I originally thought it was. I wanted to go to sleep and go to work in the morning. “Do I seriously need to be out on medical leave for 2 weeks?” I asked, annoyed by it. He nodded, obviously not willing to open to a conversation about it. He leaned down, kissing me on the head. “I’ll lock up when I leave. Call me if you need anything. Goodnight, baby boy,” he said, turning off the lights as he exited my room and then my apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)


	23. Flashback I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quick update and flashback.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! This isn't my like my normal chapters and updates but I really wanted to build on Reese as a character and close some open plot points. This is just a quick update before another real chapter.
> 
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE SUPPORT!! I never would have guessed that people would have picked up my fic and enjoyed it. I have already grown more as a writer and it really is all thanks to you. 
> 
> Happy reading, kind stranger :)
> 
> -Mitch

“I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.”  
-Michelangelo

* * *

Author’s Note.

  
Hey guys, gals, and non-binary pals! I wanted to interrupt your normal reading experience to bring some new things to the table. I have been writing everyday for 2 weeks and have provided 22 chapters of reading. I admit I am hitting a slight wall as to where to turn next (hopefully you guys can help me with that) but that will be fixed shortly when I start writing chapter 23. Anyways, I wanted to take this ‘chapter’ to provide some background on Reese and build out on his story. I’m going to write a memory or flashback and then some of a character profile on him. I based Reese’s character partially on certain things about me. But before we get there, a few questions:  
1\. Should I do some chapters from Hotch’s POV?  
2\. If you like these flashbacks should I do more of them?  
3\. What would you like to see out of the storyline (what interests you as a reader)?

* * *

Character Profile

Name: Reese Jacob Benson  
DOB: November 16th, 1996  
Gender: Male  
Sex: Male  
Sexual Orientation: Homosexual (bonus points if you get this reference. ‘Honey, I’m homo!’)  
Education: Bachelor’s degree in Forensic Psychology. Alumni of the University of Vanderbilt. Went on scholarship.  
Recruitment: Was recruited into the FBI on a limb. Is like Spencer, but less of a genius and has more muscles. Fought tooth and nail for the BAU opening and caught both Rossi’s and Hotch’s attention. Has been apart of the team for 1 year.  
Random Personal Tidbits:  
• Doesn’t have a favorite song or artist but hates country music.  
• Blue is his favorite color  
• Almost joined the Navy (thank god he didn’t lol)  
• Loves everything about the Italians. Rossi is like his uncle but not all at the same time.  
• Enjoys learning but hides it.  
• Hates not being productive.  
• Cherry pepsi is easily his favorite soda.

* * *

**_*Flashback to 1 year ago*_ **

  
_I was feeling nervous when I stepped into the main building of the FBI academy. Today was the big day. My interview with the BAU. I had been working in the New York Field office for 2 years, taking the profiling classes on the side. I had always been interesting in profiling, so when the opportunity to apply arose, I took it. I never thought I would actually GET an interview. You weren’t supposed to be a profiler until you had worked the field for a minimum of 7 years. I had only been active in the field for two and I was no where near the best in the field. I gave it my best, like I did everything, but I simply wasn’t as good in the field as others. It made me feel inadequate._

_I pressed the button to the elevator, stepping back to allow people to move out of the doors when they opened. I was fidgeting, my fingers running over and playing with the casing of my black swiss army knife. I was trying to keep the anxiety inside me from running out of my body in a rush. I rocked back and forth on my toes, trying to ease the growing tension inside me. The doors opened with a **ding** making me look up, waiting for the few men and women inside to vacate the car, letting me step inside alone. I punched the button for the floor the BAU was on, shuffling into the back of the car. I leaned against the cool metal wall, trying to gather any calm I could muster._

_**Calm down. Calm down. Calm down. Calm down.** I the door opened with a **ding** , letting me out and nearly colliding with a 6’ to 6’1 pale man with a mop of golden hair. “So-sorry,” I stuttered out, trying to make sure he was steady. He let out a small laugh, shooting me a small sympathetic smile. “Interviews?” he asked, somehow knowing my position. I nodded, my hand shooting into my pocket and fidgeting with the casing of my knife. I carried it everywhere. It was a gift from someone who I was close to. It made me feel somewhat lucky, I guess. “H-hey, can you tell me which office is Aaron Hotchner’s?” I asked timidly, not wanting to annoy the lanky man who was clearly trying to get somewhere. He nodded, “through the bullpen, up the stairs. First door when you walk up them. His name is on the door.”_

_“Thanks,” I replied politely, moving to be on time. I was technically early by 7 minutes, but who actually counts out those details. I glided through the glass doors, the BAU seal printed in white on the pristine glass. **I wonder who that other guy was. Probably some office guy. He doesn’t seem like the type who would be interested in the field, but profilers aren’t required to carry.** I walked through the office, seemingly ignoring the chaos of other agents rushing around trying to get work done. I walked up the small set of steps, reading the door’s name plate and knocking. “Come in,” a deep voice said from inside. I opened the door, stepping in tentatively. The man looked up from his stack of what I assumed were resumes, his eyes locked on my face._

_I noted his body language, trying to take in every detail. “Aaron Hotchner, sir? I’m Agent Reese Benson from the New York office. You called me about an interview,” I explained, forcing myself to appear calm. He nodded his understanding, standing and moving over to where I was in the entrance of his office. “Yes,” he responded, holding out his hand for a handshake, “I did. Please, sit down.” He said as he let go of my hand. He had a firm grip. He was clearly an alpha personality. Authoritative. But he didn’t display arrogance or cockiness. His office was neat besides his desk, books about law and the FBI lining the shelves._

_I took a seat in front of his mahogany desk, noting the organization of the room. He clearly enjoyed keeping things in a controlled, orderly manner. Nothing straying from its place. I waited expectantly, my fingers digging into the knife casing. Hotchner sat down in his desk chair, a small sigh escaping him as he picked up his pen. He shuffled some of the papers around, finding what he wanted before reading some of what I assumed was my resume. He was concentrated. Focused. Alert to everything going around him yet still maintaining himself in the task at hand. He was a man of drive and ambition. I sat in silence, feeling somewhat awkward and uncomfortable, although most of that was probably from stress. I didn’t know why. It wasn’t like I was going to make the cut._

_I cleared my throat, “Um… sir, may I ask you a question?” He looked up at me, his gaze sharp yet impassive on my face. His eyes were a deep brown color, his skin a tan contrast. His hair was jet black, each hair slicked expertly into place. “Yes?” he prompted, wanting me to spit out what I had to ask. I opened my mouth, trying to get the words to come out of my brain. “Why did you agree to an interview with me? I don’t meet the field requirements. I don’t stand out with my degree. I don’t stand out among other agents, although I do try. So… I guess I don’t quite understand why I am here, sir,” I said, trying to sound as humble as possible. I didn’t want to seem like I was ungrateful for the mere chance to make the team. He returned to his reading, seemingly ignoring my question._

_I swallowed, taking that as a sign that I had fucked up. My fingers drummed on my thigh; the sound barely audible. His face was impassive. It was a mask that was familiar for him. Second nature, no doubt. “How old were you when you graduated high school?” he asked, his face returning to meet my gaze, his hand relaxing to rest against the desk. “16, sir. I got to leave my home early and went to Vanderbilt on scholarship to learn forensic psychology, sir,” I responded quickly, trying to focus on not tripping over my words. He nodded his acknowledgement. “And you have an I.Q. of?” he pondered, waiting for an answer. “182, sir. Although it doesn’t make me smarter or better. It simply means that I can take in information and process it faster, sir,” I explained, not wanting to sound arrogant._

_He pulled out a small file, flipping through the contents and examining something within it. “You scored near perfect on every academic assessment in the academy. Your field scores were more in the average category, but still impressive,” he stated aloud. I didn’t respond, not sensing a question and not wanting to stroke my ego. “You only have two years field experience and yet your case solving rate is impressive. Above the average of almost all the newer agents in the New York field office. And you applied for this position anyways,” he stated, relaying information to me that I didn’t really need to hear. I simply nodded my understanding. **Wait, is he actually considering me for the job?**_

_“You aren’t one for arrogance, are you Agent Benson?” he asked pointedly. I shook my head fiercely, “no sir. It gets in the way of the job.” He nodded at that bit of information, pleased by my answer. “Well, Benson, I think you have the potential to be a great profiler and a valuable asset to my team. I will have to discuss further with my team but I will keep you informed,” Hotchner concluded, signaling the end of this meeting. I stood, extending my hand and offering a kind smile. He shook my hand, his face breaking and revealing the ghost of a smile on his lips. I walked to the door, opening it before pausing and turning to look back at him. “And sir…” I said, my voice trailing off. He looked up from his stack of resumes, paying attention to the words leaving my mouth. “Thank you.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! Please leave feedback based on the questions I asked in the author's note! It helps me out a ton. I get to keep writing and you people get content you actually want to read! A win-win. Anyways, thanks again :)


	24. Too Much

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mentions of rape, self-harm, blood, suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts. Please use discretion. 
> 
> Back at it with another chapter. I've noticed that my word count is slowly going up. Happy reading, kind stranger! Hope you enjoy :)

“You will never do anything in this world without courage. It is the greatest quality of the mind next to honor.”  
-Aristotle

* * *

I let out a small groan, rolling over on my side and trying to go back to sleep. I could tell my room was bright from the sunlight breezing through my windows. “Fuck,” I groaned out, not wanting to get out of bed yet despite my body being awake and raring to go. _Go where? There really isn’t anywhere to go. Maybe I’ll go get coffee and hit up a bookstore or something._ I sat up the bed, goosebumps hatching across my skin from the cold air. It was late October. Halloween season and all that jazz. Reid’s favorite damn holiday. I scanned the room, trying to kick my brain into gear like the rest of my body had already done. My eyes snagged on the lamp, still turned on from last night. I smiled at it, thinking about Aaron’s gentleness.

Although I would never admit it, he was a good dominant. And honestly, I didn’t want to be in charge. I felt my morning wood pulse in my boxers, making my breath hiss from in between my teeth. I snatched my phone from the charger, checking the time and any messages I had been sent last night and this morning. 9:23am. I noticed the small red bubble attached to my message’s app, making me tap the green icon and examine the message I had been sent.

_Hotch: Call me whenever you wake up._

I sighed, thinking about the range of possibilities this phone call could be. My mind immediately flew to the worst possible reasons. Losing my job. Getting pulled from the team and reassigned. Being suspended for something. My medical leave being extended. I chuckled, thinking about how medical leave was bad thing in my mind. I didn’t like not working at all. It simply wasn’t in my nature to sit around all the time. I had been driven since high school; determined to get away from that abusive hell hole and make something of myself. I leaned over, flicking the small switch and turning off my lamp. I dialed Hotch up, waiting for him to pick up.

He picked up on the second ring, clearly anticipating my call. I spoke before he could greet me like normal. “Good morning, boss,” I said, my voice coming out in a sing-song manner. I heard his office chair squeak, indicating that he was leaning back in it. “Good morning, baby. How did you sleep?” A hint of worry peaked in his voice, clear that he had been thinking about me alone in my apartment. I smiled, always pleased by his thoughtfulness and overall selflessness. He was a good man. Especially to people he was close to. “Like a damn rock. Didn’t want to wake up this morning, honestly,” I said, my inflection reflecting my good mood. That seemed to please Aaron in a way that I probably wouldn’t understand. He felt things in our relationship on multiple levels, and the fact that I was fine the entire night pleased him on all three.

There was Hotch, my no-nonsense and stoic unit chief who doesn’t take shit from anyone. There was Aaron, my friend whenever we aren’t working, who is more laid back and open about his personality. And then there was Aaron again, but as my dominant rather than my friend. Each different sect of him had different motives behind wanting me to be better. Hotch wanted me back in the field as fast as possible while still taking time to heal. Aaron wanted me to be better because I’m a human being who suffered a tragedy. The other part of Aaron wanted me better because we had some pretty good sex when given the chance. And each motive was integral to our relationship and the delicate balance we had found.

“Is that so?” he asked, chuckling slightly. I nodded before realizing he couldn’t actually see me, “yeah. I’m currently trying to figure out what I am going to do with my time.” I could tell he was smiling. It was easy to tell, mostly because he wasn’t in Hotch mode right now. He was just Aaron. He always let more of his guard down when he was like that. “Do whatever. Just don’t come to work and try and work. I’ll only extend your medical leave,” he threatened, trying to make sure I didn’t come into the office. I scoffed, having no intention to come to the office. “If I do it would be to get my gun back and claim that knife from my desk. I always carry those. My good luck charms,” I retorted. That made him let out a small laugh which made me laugh. It was a rare sound when he was at work, so it became infectious. “Well that’s good,” he said approvingly.

I let out a small gasp, faking shock and hurt. “Don’t tell me you are trying to get rid of me, boss,” I said, trying to sell shock and innocence. He chuckled, amused by my act. “No, I am not trying to get rid of you. Permanently at least. Maybe Morgan will actually get through his reports today,” he shot back. “WOW,” I exclaimed, “JUST WOW!” He couldn’t contain his laughter at that. He was laughing pretty hard for being at his office at work. “Sometimes, you are a real prick, you know that?” I commented sarcastically. Aaron was clearly trying to stifle his laughter in order to respond but it wasn’t working very well. “Watch your mouth, sweetheart. Just because I’m not there doesn’t mean you get to be disrespectful,” he warned in a low tone, clearly trying to keep his voice down. It wouldn’t matter considering his door was probably closed and no one had time to ease drop on his conversations.

 _Who would want to anyways? The majority of his phone calls are about boring bureaucratic red tape._ I let out a disapproving growl, my face twisting into a scowl. “I can tell you are scowling, Reese,” he informed me, turning my scowl to bewilderment and then back to a scowl. “Stop profiling me, jerk,” I whined, knowing that he could tell because of his behavioral analysis skills. “Stop being easy to profile, brat,” he retorted mockingly. I let out a growl, not amused by his comment about being easy to profile and about being a brat. It was true, I wasn’t doubting that, but I was still ‘offended’ by the call out. “Stronzo (asshole),” I mumbled under my breath. “What was that?” he asked, still amused by this entire conversation. “Nothing!” I replied back, alarm rising in my tone.

Then a thought struck me. _He can’t understand what I’m saying. He doesn’t speak Italian._ “Perche sono preoccupato? Non puoi capire cosa sto dicendo (why am I worried? You can’t understand what I’m saying),” I muttered, mentally slapping myself. He let out a small exasperated groan. “Translation please?” he grumbled. I laughed at that, finding it hilarious that he would think I would give myself away that easily. “HA. No. I’m not getting in trouble over this, bello,” I said, still laughing. “Bello?” he asked skeptically. I calmed down, my laughing starting to cease, “bello. It means handsome. Don’t worry, you can ask Rossi or google to make sure.” He chuckled. I could tell he was smiling, pleased that I was starting to use more intimate language, albeit foreign language, to address him. “Stop being so sweet. I have to work,” he admonished. I smiled at that. “Talk to you later, bello,” I replied, still goofy with pleasure that I pleased him in some minor way. “I will. Bye, baby boy.”

I hit the end call button, inhaling and exhaling. I wanted to keep talking to him, but he did have a job to do. I knew just as well as anyone how important and hectic his job was. Simply talking to him wasn’t a good enough reason to waste his time. I finally got out of bed, walking over to my closet and staring blankly at all the clothes inside. The temperature was dropping in Virginia and it was finally sweatshirt weather. I pulled out a pair of black jeans and a gray American Eagle sweater, tossing the items on the bed behind me. I walked over to my dresser, pulling out a pair of black socks and some stripped boxer briefs, tossing those on the bed too. I opened another drawer, pulling out a black leather belt, tossing it on the pile of clothing.

I sauntered over to the bed, pulling off my boxers and tossing them in my laundry basket. I pulled on my boxer briefs, readjusting myself. I pulled on my jeans, buttoning them and zipping them deftly. I stuck my hands in my pockets, readjusting the material to fit correctly. I slid my belt through the loops, pulling it tight and buckling my belt. I tossed the sweater over my head, rolling the sleeves to fit the length of my arm correctly. I sat on the bed, pulling on my socks. I sauntered out of the room, hitting the bathroom lights and revealing my bathroom. I brushed my teeth and combed my hair, running some product through it to make it sit right. It took me a few minutes to get it to look the way I wanted it to. I pulled out some hairspray and gave it a light spray to keep it looking right. _Bless you Tresemme._

I walked back into my bedroom and over to my closet, looking at the small metal rack that held all my shoes. I noticed the discarded sweats and t-shirt next to it, making me smile and think about how well Aaron took care of me. I scooped up the clothing, tossing it into my mess laundry basket and returning my focus to picking out a pair of shoes. I decided to go the Dr. Reid route, and chose a pair of black Converse. Mine didn’t look nearly as beat up as Spencer’s. I sat on the floor, pulling the high-top sneakers on and tying them quickly. I stood back up, wandering over to my nightstand to grab my keys, phone, and wallet. I was going to get out of the house for a few hours. Maybe go to a library or bookstore. Get some groceries. Grab some coffee.

I picked up my earbuds, shoving them into my ears and letting them connect to my phone. I opened my music app and scrolled through my library, trying to decide what I was in the mood to listen to. MGK came to mind so I scrolled to the song “Hollywood Whore” and hit play, leaving it on repeat. I enjoyed listening to songs over and over when I was in the mood to listen to them. People thought I was weird for doing that, but who cares. It was simply how I did things. I turned all my lights off, double checking I had everything before stepping out of my apartment and locking the door. I walked to the elevator and hit the call button. “Hey neighbor!” a young man said happily. I glanced at him, jerking my head up to silently say what’s up. “I haven’t seen you around much. I’m Cory,” he said cheerily, extending his hand for a handshake. “Reese,” I replied nonchalantly. _Please hurry up. I do not want to talk to this guy._

“Are you new here?” he asked, clearly curious as to why I wasn’t around much. _That isn’t really any of your business, Cory. This is why I’m a workaholic with no friends._ I shook my head, “no. I just have a job that keeps me away a lot.” He nodded, a look of understanding coming over his face. “I get that. What do you do?” he asked. _Why is the elevator taking so damn long. Jesus._ “I work for the FBI,” I explained, giving him the bare minimum. His eyes light up like a fucking Christmas tree. “Wow! That must be a really interesting line of work,” he exclaimed excitedly. “You have no idea,” I muttered under my breath, over this entire conversation.

 ** _Ding._** The elevator opened, letting both of us step inside. I hit the G button, backing up to lean against the wall of the elevator. I turned up my music, trying to drown out Cory. I felt like an ass for not wanting to talk to him and for being annoyed by him, but I really wasn’t in the mood to care that much either. We arrived at the first floor quickly, letting Cory out to go about his day. “Bye,” I said as he walked out of the elevator. The doors closed, taking me down to the garage. I strode out the doors, hitting the unlock button on my key fob and opening my car door. _Coffee time._ I slid behind the wheel gracefully, listening to the engine of my car purr as it came to life. “Beautiful,” I murmured, pulling my seatbelt over my torso. I put the car in drive, pulling out of my parking space and beginning my drive to the nearest Dunkin’ Donuts.

My apartment was only ten minutes away from everything I really needed in the city. I parallel parked and walked half a block to a Dunkin’ Donuts. I was in the mood for something sugar filled after everything that had gone down in the past month. I opened the door to the shop, striding inside and taking a spot in line. I needed coffee and a donut stat. There were three people in line in front of me which wasn’t too bad for it being around 10am. Usually things were busier, but I wasn’t complaining. I stepped forward, a woman and her child walking past me to exit the store. My music was still playing in my ears, the guitar of another MGK song playing quietly. I pulled one of the buds out of my ear, slipping it in my pocket to hear what the cashier was telling me.

I ordered an iced coffee and two glazed donuts. I knew they were simple but that’s what I enjoyed. I paid for my food and drink and happily took what they handed me, stepping out of the store to eat in my car. I made the short trek back, slouching in my seat and opening the small bag of donuts I had in my hands. “Damn these are good,” I said, taking a bite of my donut. I ate quickly, savoring the coffee more.

My morning was more or less basic things. I had picked up groceries at the grocery store. I had gone by the mall to buy some more sweatshirts and sweatpants. I had gone by a Barnes and Nobles to pick up some books to keep myself occupied. I picked up a sandwich from a Subway. And then I had gone home, putting everything away and flopping on my couch. “How do people do this?” I asked, wrapping my head around the fact that I had 2 more weeks of this. I groaned, getting out some of my pent-up frustration at the thought of doing nothing for 2 weeks. _I should be working. But noooooo. I have to stay home. Damn you, Hotch._ I kicked my shoes off, hearing them hit the floor loudly. I closed my eyes, trying to think of something to do. My thoughts flicked to Aaron. The hotter thoughts of Aaron. I realized quickly that a lot of my frustration was from being sexually pent-up. I hadn’t gotten off since the entire Texas situation.

I shuddered, trying to push past thoughts of that man and being locked in a bunker, kneeling on the ground begging for someone to save me for hours on end. I moved back to warmer thoughts. The night I spent getting fucked by Aaron. _God damn that was such a good night._ I felt myself getting hard in my jeans, my hand moving down to adjust myself. _“It’s ok if you do.” I technically can. He said I can._ I unbuckled my belt, pushing my jeans and underwear down enough to free my cock. I was only semi-hard, but I was approaching fully aroused quickly. My breath hissed out from between my teeth, my hand stroking my erection. “Fuck,” I swore, my body responding the touch extremely quickly. It had been a while. A voice in the back of my mind was screaming at me.

_**You’re fucking pathetic. So damned disgusting. You were getting raped last week and you’re already trying to get off. Filthy fucking whore. What would other people say if they knew? Disgusting.** _

_Shut up. Just shut up. Leave me the fuck alone. Just shut up._

I started stroking myself a little faster, trying to stimulate myself. I let out a deep breath, my muscles tightening from the friction. I did this for a while, still trying to find some pleasure from it. I couldn’t. It wasn’t satisfying. Then an evil thought came to my mind. I paused, pulling my phone from my pocket and checking the time. _11:57. Lunch hours over at the BAU in three minutes._ I dialed before I had fully thought this small plan through. “Are you ok?” Aaron said, concern seaping inside his words. I exhaled, swallowing before respond. “Yeah. I just wanted to call you while you went to lunch,” I replied, putting him at ease. _If only he knew_. He let out a relieved sigh, “good. That’s good. Well I’m walking to my car to drive to lunch as we speak.”

I put the phone on speaker, holding it while my other hand began stroking my cock again. I heard the opening of a car door on the other side of the line, followed by the shutting of a car door and the starting of an engine. “Where… where are you going for lunch?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady as to not give myself away. There was a brief moment of silence on the other end before Aaron responded. “Sam’s. I’m in the mood for a decent salad and a sandwich,” he told me. I bit my bottom lip, trying to contain myself. “T-that’s nice. I got a sandwich for lunch when I picked some things up today,” I said, my voice somewhat breathy. “Oh yeah? What have you done today?” he asked, clearly trying to focus on the road as well as me. _He better not get into a damned car accident._

“I-I went and got coffee and then went to the grocery store. I needed food considering, fuck, I never have any here,” I answered. I let out a soft moan, trying to be quiet while we were on the phone. I let out a small laugh, “I went to the bookstore too. How Spencer Reid is that?” He chuckled, understanding the connection. “Fuck,” I whispered, starting to stroke myself a little harder. I closed my eyes, thinking about what it would be like if Aaron was here rather than at work. I thought about what he looked like when he sucked me off. There was a moment of silence, the only indication he was still on the line was the sound of traffic. “Are you edging yourself, sweetheart?” I jumped at the question, my eyes widening at the question. Sometimes I forget that I’m in a relationship with a profiler. I let out a small groan, my pace slowing, “y-yes. I just… fuck… felt pent up.” He let out a rough laugh, seemingly satisfied by that piece of information.

“So, you called me while I drive to lunch because I would be free?” he asked, piecing my thought process together. “Basically,” I replied, my breathing picking up. I heard his breath exit his lungs, his own thoughts crossing his mind. “Mhmm, dirty boy. Calling daddy while he still has to work to get off,” he said, his voice low and full of lust. I let out a moan, not restraining myself anymore. I got more aroused, his words traveling straight to my cock. “Jesus Christ… please,” I begged, submitting to him even though he wasn’t even here. “Please what baby boy? Tell daddy what you need,” he demanded, his voice taking on a rougher edge. I was rocking into my hand, my body taking over rather than my brain. I swallowed, my mouth going dry, “keep talking… please. I need you keep talking so that I can… so that I can cum.”

He hummed his approval of what I needed. “Such a needy little thing. Can’t even cum without my knowledge. Is that it? You need daddy to help you cum?” he asked gruffly. A small moan escaped my throat, precum leaking out of my cock. “Y-yes,” I stuttered, my brain overtaken by pleasure. “Yes what? Don’t forget your manners, baby boy,” he chastised. My brain kicked back into gear, “yes sir… fu-fuck… please.” I heard a satisfied growl leave his throat, arousing me to a painful degree. His voice was rough when he spoke, “good boy. Such a good boy for me. I want you to imagine that it’s me that’s stroking you. Can you do that sweetheart?” I nodded fiercely before mental slapping myself again. He can’t fucking see you, genius. “Yes sir,” I answered, my words turning into moans from pleasure.

I could hear the gear shift, indicating that he was parked. I knew no one would be the wiser of our conversation in the outside world. Aaron was too experienced in masking things to give things away. Not that anyone but our co-workers would even care. I started reciprocating what Aaron usually did from memory, stroking slow but at a consistent pace. My head dropped back, hitting the arm of the couch. I let out a low moan, squeezing the head of my cock. “I want you to get close and then hold yourself there. Don’t cum a moment before I tell you to, baby,” he ordered gruffly. I was already ridiculously close so it wouldn’t take long for me to get to the edge. My breath was coming out in pants, need straining inside me as I got closer and closer to climax. My eyes were shut tight, taking in every ounce of pleasure.

I started bucking into my hand, my hips thrusting up in an attempt to get as close as possible. “Please… pl-please dear fucking god… I need to cum,” I breathed, stroking faster, my strokes timed perfectly with my thrusts. Aaron let out a laugh laced with his amusement and satisfaction. “I’m not even there and you’re still begging me for permission. My obedient little boy. Don’t cum,” he said, wanting to make me even more desperate, “hold it, baby boy. Be a good boy and hold it.” I swallowed, doing my best to hold myself close to the edge without plummeting over it. “I can’t… I need to cum,” I told him, so close I could practically taste my orgasm. I could tell he was smirking. “No, you want to cum. Only good boys get to cum, so behave for daddy and you can cum,” he teased, pushing me even closer to desperation.

“I want you desperate and begging for me before you cum. God, _fuck_ ,” he said, his words coming out clipped from his own arousal. I grinned at that. “I hope I’m giving you blue balls,” I teased, my strokes slowing slightly so I didn’t cum early. I was close. Too close. I was going to go off like a ticking time bomb. He chuckled, finding that comment amusing. “Behave, sweetheart. Or I’m not going to give you permission and if you cum a moment before that there will be consequences. Don’t mock daddy,” he reprimanded, trying to regain his control over me. It worked easily. I was too pent up to stop myself now. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Fuck, please. Please, I need to cum so damn bad. I’ll be good please just let me cum,” I replied quickly, the words coming out of my mouth in a rush.

Aaron scoffed, understanding the power he held over me. “Oh? You’re sorry? If you want to cum you need to convince me better than that, baby boy,” he mocked, forcing me into submission with ease. _He is too good at this. One day I’m going to collapse from his antics. Thank god today isn’t that day_. “Fuck, Aaron please. I’m sorry, I swear. I won’t tease you again. I’ll behave, just please, let me cum. I’m sorry,” I said, pleading. My entire voice laced with desperation and the need to climax. My erection was throbbing in my hand, my hand slick with precum. I moaned loudly, too aroused and sexually frustrated to keep my voice down. “Who owns your pleasure, sweetheart?” he asked, lust clear in his inflection. “You. You own it,” I answered, desperation moving through me. “And what’s my name, baby?” he asked, knowing he had me right where he wanted me. “Daddy,” I replied, practically moaning the name.

That seemed to satisfy him enough. “Cum for daddy, baby. Cum right now,” he demanded. I came, screaming his name as I did. I was breathing hard, my orgasm spreading through me in a rush. My hand was sticky with my cum, sweat beginning to prick at my brow. I let out a satisfied sigh, trying to take in a deep breath. “Feel better?” he asked, his tone changing and becoming warmer. “Yeah, yeah way better,” I panted, letting the post-orgasmic high take over me, “thank you. That was very nice.” He chuckled. “Glad you enjoyed it. Listen I need to grab a meal so I can get back to the office. There is so much paperwork on my desk,” he explained. I interjected, “no it’s fine, bello. Get back to work. Work is important, even if you won’t let me come to work.”

“Don’t start with that. You need time away from your desk. Can I see you tonight?” he asked, the opening of the car door competing with his voice. “Yeah. I’ll leave my door unlocked. Have fun with your paperwork, boss,” I said, my voice hoarse. “See you then. Bye,” he said, hanging up the phone. I tossed my phone on the coffee table, letting out a deep exhalation. I looked down, inspecting the ‘damage.’ My hand was covered in seamen, the sticky substance dripping onto my pelvis. I wanted to go to sleep on the couch, but I didn’t want to make a mess. I reluctantly got up from where I was laying, moving into my bathroom and washing the cum off my hands and pelvis. I moved into my bedroom, peeling off my jeans and leaving them discarded on the floor. I pulled on a pair of sweatpants, trying to get comfortable.

I walked back into my living room, flipping on the T.V. for some simple background noise. I stretched out, my body falling into even breathing before eventually falling asleep. What would turn out to be a huge mistake.

**_*6 years earlier*_ **

  
_**Where am I? What’s going on? What happened? Did I die? Am I finally fucking dead?** I heard the rustling of something in the vicinity, my body on edge and confused. I slowly opened my eyes, revealing a hospital room. I closed my eyes again quickly, trying to determine if I was dreaming or not. I opened my eyes again, my vision snagging on a middle-aged man doing something on the other side of the room. He was writing something out on a whiteboard, medical terms and times and random jargon all over it in blue ink. I tried to remain still, to remain unnoticed, but I failed miserably._

_“Ah, Mr. Benson. You’re finally awake,” the man said warmly, acknowledging me. I looked at him wide eyed, fear looming over me. **Why am I here? Why am I in a damn hospital?** “Wh-why am I here?” I asked, my voice cracking from how dry my mouth and throat were, “and who are you?” The man smiled down at me, capping the dry erase marker and setting it on the lip of the whiteboard. He walked over to where I was, standing at the side of the bed. I shifted away, fear settling in my gut. “Do you not remember?” he asked impassively, noting my attempts to get away from him. I shook my head no, my eyes breaking away from his out of fear and nervousness. “You were beaten at school and passed out in the hallway before the paramedics got there. You have been out for two days,” he explained softly, trying to put me at ease. It wasn’t fucking working._

_My eyes grew wide, panic spreading through me, my body beginning to shake. **No. Oh god no. What did they see? Did they see? Do they know? Please tell me they don’t know.** “And when we examined you, we found the cuts and the bruises and anal trauma from repeated rape and sexual assault,” the man pushed on, “so we have been monitoring you and called CPS.” I looked up at the man, eyes wide and full of pain and anguish. **No. NO. They know. He’ll kill me. He will kill me.** My breath picked up, coming quick and shallow as I began panicking at the thought. I was gasping for air, my thoughts moving a million miles a minute. I was hyperventilating, my mind conquered by my fear. “Hey, hey, Reese, you need to sit up and put your head between your knees. Breathe in and out slowly,” the man ordered gently, trying to push me into moving so that I could calm down faster._

_I didn’t move, my body practically glued in place. My lungs burned, in need of air but unable to really get any from how fast I was inhaling and exhaling. **No. No. This shouldn’t be happening. I shouldn’t be here. No. NO.** I was shaking uncontrollably, my panic gripping me, overtaking everything I had. I panicked for what felt like an eternity. I was starting to calm down, my breathing slowing but I was still shaking. The man hadn’t left, he was still standing next to the bed, watching me. My eyes flicked from the bed to his gaze and back to the bed. I was still gripped by fear, my brain only capable of thinking about the worst of outcomes. **What do I do? Shit. Think Reese, think. What do you do? How do you fix this, so he won’t get mad?**_

_“Alright. Reese. I’m going to step out for a moment to get a nurse to check your vitals. Then I’m going to let the CPS worker know you’re alright. My names Jordan, by the way,” he said before walking out of the room. I examined myself, finding an I.V. in my arm. I eyed the attached bathroom, knowing that I could think for a moment if I could manage to be alone. I pulled the tape back on the I.V., carefully removing the needle from my arm and placing it beside me. I moved out of the bed quickly, looking for anything sharp. I rummaged around, finding an empty syringe. I picked it up, taking it into the bathroom before closing the door, locking the door. I broke the syringe, exposing a jagged edge of glass and pressing it against my wrist. **I’m not dealing with this. Not this time. Never again.**_

_The glass cut into my wrist, blood instantly seeping from the deep cut. I slashed again before repeating on the other side, blood flowing from my wrists. I sank to the floor, dropping the piece of glass and shattering it on the cold tile flooring. Blood pooled on the floor, a lighter red color from hitting an artery. I registered the opening of a door before slipping back into sweet unconsciousness, praying that I would die quick enough to see my mom again._

* * *

My eyes flew open, sweat dripping down my face at the memory. My heart was pounding in my chest, shame and panic and need spreading in my gut. My face was red from how hot I was, my skin practically on fire from remembered shame. I was desperate for air. Desperate to forget everything about those days. The days where I lived in fear and pain and darkness without ever getting to see the light. I warm tear slipped down my face, my mind trapped in the abyss of my thoughts. I ripped my sweat dampened sweater off, throwing randomly to somewhere else. I stood on shaky legs, the need to relieve the stress of everything coursing through me. I was determined to fix this.

I ripped the door to the cabinet under my T.V. opening, retrieving the extra knife that I kept as both a memory of someone past and to cut when needed. I need to get my knife from my desk. I forgot to get it before I went on leave. _Damn it, Reese. God fucking damn it._

_**Fucking pathetic. Always are. Can’t even keep clean anymore. What’s next? Are you going to start drinking again? Maybe graduate to hard drugs? Such a stupid little bitch.** _

_SHUT UP! JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP! I NEED TO DO THIS. I NEED TO._

**_I bet Aaron’s going to leave when he sees you. He’ll be disgusted and he will leave. All because of you. Because you’re weak. Everyone would have it so much easier if you just bled out on the floor. Such a burden on everyone’s lives. That man should have just killed you. You served your intended purpose. Pussy boy._ **

_STOP. STOP FUCKING TALKING. LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE. LEAVE. ME. ALONE. THIS IS DIFFERENT. RIGHT? IT’S DIFFERENT THAN BEFORE. SO SHUT UP. SHUT THE HELL UP._

**_Whatever you say, you stupid little fag boy. Cut yourself like the addict you are. Such a pathetic rape whore. I bet you liked it when that man cut his mark into you and then fucked your throat. Worthless fucking faggot._ **

I fumbled with the red casing, dropping the closed knife on the hardwood floor. “SON OF A BITCH!” I yelled, rage finding its way into my inflection. Too many raw emotions were attacking me at once. Too many things at once. _Too much. This is all just too much._ I pushed my pants down, sitting on the floor with the knife in my hand. My hands were dripping with sweat, my grip slipping on the cold plastic. I cut deep, my thigh stinging with the pain of my first slice. I repeated this, my breath wrenching from my throat as I added 6 more cuts next to the first one. I dropped the knife next to me, taking in the high and welcoming it with open arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading kind stranger :)


	25. Slave of Addiction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hotch and Reese have a conversation about getting help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Rape, abuse, torture, blood, self-harm, mentions of suicide. Please use discretion. 
> 
> Ironic, but happy reading :)

“Love is what we were born with. Fear is what we learned here.”  
-Marianne Williamson

* * *

I was sitting on the cold hardwood of my living room floor. Blood was rushing out of the 7 cuts in my leg, the hormones throwing everything in my brain for a loop rushing out in the dark red substance. My hands were open, arms at my sides as I took in my high. I watched the blood seep out, my eyes going out of focus as adrenaline overtook me. I felt myself relaxing, my muscles loosening and my body going laxer. My breathing was coming out more slowly and deeply. My shaking was stopping, my body calming down but my brain still working in high gear. That stupid voice in the back of my head was still screaming at me. Still annoying me.

_**Sick fucking bitch. Weakling. You cut up anyways because you’re such a fucking bitch. And you wonder why no one loves you? Why no one cares? This is why you are disgusting fucking faggot.** _

_STOP FUCKING TALKING TO ME. JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP. SHUT UP._

_**This is why Aaron is going to leave. They always do. Always. Because everyone gets sick of your bullshit. Everyone gets sick of you. This is why you should just take the knife to your wrist. End it. Because no one would care. They never do.** _

_NO. No. My team would care. Right? They would care? Fuck. I don’t know. But you’re wrong. You have to be wrong._

I felt another tear roll down my face, my guilt and shame and disgust re-emerging inside me. I felt sick. Sick at the thought of my team watching me get raped. Sick at the thought of dying yet sick at the thought of living. My thoughts were tearing me apart. Ripping me in two. I felt guilty at the thought of staying alive yet guilty at the thought of dying. I didn’t know what to feel or how. Maybe the voice was right. Maybe I should end it. Maybe I wasn’t worth having around and everyone was acting when they said they cared. Hell, my own team let me get kidnapped outside a Chinese restaurant in Austin. Maybe they wouldn’t care. That thought made me sicker than I already was.

I heard my door opening. _What time is it? Does it even matter? Will it ever matter? Probably not._ I glanced over, watching Aaron walk through my doorway. He looked at me, a smile on his face before twisting into panic and terror. I was covered in blood, the blood dripping off of me and onto the dark colored hardwood. It was like he was frozen in place, staring at me in horror. It was like I had grown two heads or something. I didn’t have the strength to explain. I looked away, unable to handle the look on his face any further. I wanted to scream. To scream until I physically couldn’t anymore. I let out a shallow breath, trying to gather the courage to say anything. Anything that would somehow make this situation better than it was. _To fix this. How? How can I possibly fix this?_

He finally moved, rushing over to me. He kneeled on the floor next to my bleeding body. “Reese, what the hell happened?” he asked, panic lacing his voice. I knew that he knew, but he wanted me to say it. I looked at him, my eyes stark and blank. “I couldn’t… I needed to… fuck I’m so sorry. I’m sorry,” I said, my voice cracking, my gaze returning to my blood-stained hands. Tears threatened to fall from my eyes, shame crashing over me like a tidal wave. I was on the brink of mental collapse. My sanity and I teetering over the edge, about to fall. Aaron moved his hand to touch me, making me flinch and move away. Fear made me irrational. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, but instinct couldn’t make me count on it. “N-no,” I stuttered, moving to protect myself. Something in his eyes darkened, hurt that I was fearful of him.

My oncoming tears pricked at my eyes, kicking myself for hurting him when he didn’t deserve it. “I’m so sorry… I’m sorry. God damn it, I just… I’m just so damn weak, I’m sorry,” I said, voice breaking as the tears began to fall. His eyes softened, empathy and, what was it? _Guilt? No. Pity. It’s pity._ The tears fell onto the blood covered wood, my mind in chaos from the turmoil of emotions that were fighting inside me. _The voice in my head was right. I was weak. Selfish. Filthy. Disgusting. All of that was true. And now Aaron was going to leave because I’m disgusting._ “I’m sorry… if y-you leave, I’ll understand… please just don’t talk about it,” I said, my spirit and will broken. I didn’t look at him, I just stayed where I was, slumping onto the floor. The blood soaked my hair, coating the chocolate strands and staining them too. I had stopped bleeding already, my cuts clotting and the blood on my skin drying, sticking as a lasting reminder of my weakness. _So fucking weak, Reese. Such a screw up._

Aaron’s words sliced through the air, catching me by surprise. I thought he would be out the door by now, disgusted by me and what I had done. “I’m not going to leave, Reese. I’m staying here and I’m going to try and help you. I’m not leaving,” Aaron said, confident yet terrified. He was shaken up by how he had found me. _Who wouldn’t be?_ I looked up at him, confused. I didn’t expect him to stay or to want anything to do with me. “W-what?” I asked, my voice quiet, reflecting how broken I felt inside. I was so confused. Confused by why he cared. “I’m not leaving!” he declared loudly, making me jump. “Sorry, sorry. I just… I’m not fucking leaving you like this. I’m not leaving you for this, either,” he elaborated. I was so confused and scared by this confusion. “Why? I’m disgusting. I’m just a fucking burden. No. You shouldn’t care. No one should care. I’m weak and worthless,” I said adamantly, trying to push him away. It didn’t work. Not with Aaron.

“No, you aren’t. You’re in pain and are trying to cope with excess trauma that you’ve never had to deal with properly,” he argued, cutting me off when I tried to interrupt, “and people care because you are a good person, Reese. You aren’t weak for being human. You aren’t weak at all. The opposite, actually.” My mouth was open, my brain trying to formulate some sort of argument to try and convince him otherwise, but nothing was coming out. My train of thought was derailed. “And I care. I like you… a lot actually. And for once in your life you deserve to have someone take care of you and be there for you,” he stated, his tone final. He wasn’t going to argue about this. He wasn’t going to accept any rebuttal I threw at him. He was resigned to caring about me. My hands went to grip the sides of my head, shaking it violently, “no. No. This isn’t how this goes. People leave because I’m wrong. Everything about me is wrong.”

Aaron sighed, clearly desperate to convince me otherwise. He was trying. Fighting. Pleading with me to believe him. It was such a stark contrast to the man who usually never gave in. Never begged and pleaded. Ever. “Nothing about you is wrong. Nothing is wrong with you,” he asserted, watching me break down on my floor. I was a mess. Covered in tears and sweat and blood, my thoughts jumbled together in confusion and anguish. I didn’t know what to say anymore, let alone what to think and believe. The voice in the back of my head had stopped screaming, yet the words were still screaming in vivid color. A shiver went up my spine, my body cold from laying on the hardwood. The air around me felt colder, the sweat drying and leaving me shaking on the floor. I didn’t dare move. I was too broken to move. I shut my eyes, letting the sadness inside me stab me over and over, twisting in my core.

I felt like I wasn’t real. Like I was made of plastic. Like every part of me was fake, part of some false reality that I was going to wake from any second. I could hear Aaron taking cautious steps towards me, trying not to cause anymore panic. Not that the original panic was his fault. None of this was his fault. It was my fault. All MY fault. When I opened my eyes, Aaron was sitting next to me, his hands fidgeting in his lap as though he was nervous. _Why is he nervous? He has nothing to be nervous about._ He stretched out his arm, his hand hovering over me, but never touching me. He was hesitating. “Can I?” he asked, his voice strained with unrelieved tension. “Yes,” I responded quietly. I flinched slightly as he stroked my arm, trying to comfort me without triggering me again. I accepted his touch, my body still strained from irrational fear.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. Aaron sighed, “you don’t need to apologize. I’m not upset at you.” That confused me. I felt so confused. “Why?” I croaked out, trying to understand his feelings. His feelings were just as important. I didn’t expect him to tolerate all my baggage. He shouldn’t be tolerating my baggage. “Because you need help, Reese, and getting upset because you are in distress isn’t going to get us anywhere.” _Us. He’s trying to hammer home that he isn’t leaving._ I swallowed, feeling like a failure for needing help. For needing to rely on someone else for once in my life. I was so used to people hurting me or walking away. I needed to get clean. To remove the blood from my skin and hair and to take a moment to gather my thoughts. “Can I take a shower and then we could talk more?” I asked quietly, opening my eyes to look into his deep brown eyes. He nodded, biting his lower lip to keep himself together, “yeah. I’ll be right here.”

I peeled myself off the floor, my legs nearly giving out. I managed to catch my footing, shaking my head and trying to get a damn grip. I walked into my bedroom, pulling out some new sweatpants and a new sweatshirt I had bought at American Eagle, taking my clothes into the bathroom and turning on the water. I stripped, leaving my clothes in a small pile as I took them off. I stepped under the warm spray, cleaning myself quickly. I didn’t take more than 5 minutes to actually bathe, taking another 5 or so to just gather my thoughts. I was trying to piece anything I could together. I didn’t know what to think anymore. I turned off the water, stepping out of the shower and drying off. I let the water drip off my hair, pulling on fresh clothes and opening the bathroom door to let the excess steam out. I walked back into the living room, taking on the timid mouse persona as opposed to one with confidence and calmness.

“Come here,” Aaron ordered softly, my feet taking me to him before he even finished his sentence. I stood in front of him, waiting for him to order me to do something else. He had shed his jacket, tie, and dress shirt, leaving him in his slacks and a white undershirt. He pulled me into his lap before shifting us so that I was laying on top of him, my head resting on his chest and shoulder. I tucked into him, wrapping one of my arms around his chest, the other curling up under my head by his neck. One of his arms came to rest of my side, the other stroking through my hair. I relaxed, letting his deep and even breaths calm me. “Reese…” he started, his voice filled with pain and sympathy, “you need help. You can’t keep doing this to yourself.” I took in a deep breath, my mind wrestling with something that was simple fact.

“I know…” I said quietly, agreeing with him even though it scared me. “Why did you? Something triggered it. Please, tell me. I want to help you,” he said, his demeanor gentle and soft. I swallowed, unprepared to talk about painful things about myself. “When I was in high school, one night my dad had beaten me and I had cried about it, all night. And when I went to school the next day, people wouldn’t leave me alone and one kid and his specific crew cornered me. And they beat the hell out of me. I begged them to kill me. The administrators called an ambulance and I passed out before I got to the hospital and woke up two days later. And they told me that they had called CPS because they found the cuts and evidence of rape and I… I tried to kill myself,” I told him, struggling to keep my voice steady. I was holding back tears, trying to keep myself together.

I felt him swallow, clearly trying to bite back his own emotions at the thought. “Did anyone ever try and protect you? From any of it?” he asked, trying to mask his emotions through impassivity. I shook my head, trying to nuzzle into him more. “I’ve always been alone. Always,” I said, sadness twinging in my words, “and because of that, no one ever noticed, let alone cared. People let things happen to me because they didn’t want to be the next target. So that’s what I did. I just took it.” I could tell that Aaron was trying to hide his anger at the thought of no one doing anything. Angry that no one noticed the signs early enough to help me. “You aren’t alone anymore though. I’m here. And I swear to god I will protect you if you let me,” he promised, still trying to convince me that he wasn’t going to leave or hurt me somehow. My lips curved into a small, broken smile. “I know you will, bello. I know you will.” His fingers moved out of my hair, wrapping around me and squeezing me gently. I melted into the embrace, feeling safe in his arms.

I closed my eyes, letting this feeling take over my feelings of sadness and unease. Letting this moment temporarily remove the painful times of my past of my memories and my life. Aaron exhaled, relieved that I was accepting him. Accepting his words and to some little extent, believing them. “Every night I was stuck in that bunker, I felt like I was close to excepting that I would never make it out alive. That I would be some object for that man to use. But when I prayed to god for the suffering to stop, I would think about you. The thought of you saved me. It gave me hope,” I told him, my voice quiet, almost a whisper. His arms tightened around me further, his voice strained with guilt, “I’m sorry it took us so long… to help you. I am so sorry.” I looked up at him, not wanting him to feel guilty. “It wasn’t your fault. Please, don’t be sorry,” I told him.

I knew that he was still going to feel bad about it, no matter what I said to him. That was simply how he was. And I understood that. It was the one little piece of understanding I still had. “That fucker marked me. And I let him. I still feel so disloyal, too. Like I was betraying you. Hell, the fucker even put a collar around my neck like I was a damn dog,” I complained, thinking about the possessiveness of that sociopathic whack job. Aaron’s face twisted, becoming skeptical, “before that, were you ever interested in the idea? In a consensual way?” I pursed my lips, thinking about it. “You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to,” he added quickly. I scoffed, lightening up a little bit, shifting into less serious thinking.

“It’s fine,” I said, putting him more at ease, “I’m not freaked out or anything. And to answer your question, I’m indifferent. I don’t know now, just because… well you get it. I don’t like the thing around my neck.” He just nodded, understanding my issue with it. My face scrunched into a puzzled look, “why do you ask?” He looked down at me, his fingers moving back up to run through my hair. He smiled, some sort of plan forming in his head or something. “Your birthday is in a few weeks,” he replied, grinning like an idiot at the idea. I groaned, hating the idea of my day of life being celebrated. _I fucking hate my birthday. Why would I want to celebrate the day I was conceived into a life of suffering?_ “Not a fan of birthday’s?” he asked, still grinning. I looked up at him, scowling. “I’m fine with celebrating other peoples. Not a fan of celebrating my own,” I explained. It clicked as to why he wanted to know. I understood a piece of his plan.

“Sometimes I think you are an evil mastermind, bello,” I teased, trying to lose the serious edge that I had grown accustomed to. I didn’t want to be serious anymore. Not right now, at least. He chuckled, the sound pleasing me as his chest vibrated under me. “I’m an evil mastermind for wanting to celebrate your birthday?” he asked, mimicking my teasing tone. He was lightening up. Calming down. _That’s a relief._ I scowled up at him, “no! For wanting to be deviant with me sexually on my birthday.” That made him let out a legitimate laugh, the sound throaty and higher pitched than his normal tone of voice. I enjoyed the vibration against my cheek, feeling content. He hummed, exhaling as his laughing began to stop. “Can you blame me? You’re the one who called me while I was working today to get off,” he teased, falling into a state of amusement at my expense. I blushed at that comment, feeling suddenly embarrassed that I had indeed actually done that.

“Oh, don’t get embarrassed now, baby boy,” he teased, an evil grin on his face. I turned my head, burying my face into his chest. “Easier said than done,” I squeaked, my face profusely red. Aaron tried to pull my head up to no avail. “Let me see your face,” he said, laughing. I shook my head, “no.” I was starting to laugh now, my face twisting into a smile in his chest. “Why? I want to look at your face,” he retorted, still trying to pull me out of where I was buried. I looked up, a goofy grin on my face. He grinned back down at me, a look of admiration in his eyes, “you are one of the goofiest people I have ever met.” He ran his fingers back through my hair, the strands still slightly damp from my shower. “I could say the same to you,” I retorted, rolling over to straddle him, my hands on his shoulders pushing him down into the couch. “Oh yeah?” he asked, his hands moving to grip my waist. “Yeah,” I said, nodding.

I leaned down, kissing him. I tried to deepen it, but he pulled back, looking up at me. “We are not moving to first base tonight, sweetheart. You aren’t ready for that,” he told me, his voice and face serious. I glared down at him, “I know that. I just wanted to show you that I appreciate you.” That made him smile. “Do you want to eat something?” he asked, his eyes full of warmth. He was going into what would normally be his aftercare, trying to take care of me. “I got groceries, so I can cook food for once,” I told him, matter-of-factly. “Do you want me to cook or you?” he asked, willing to take over if I felt tired or something. I shoved him, “I got it. Sometimes I can be a functioning adult.” He chuckled, making me glare down at him. “I know you can, but sometimes it’s funny when you have to declare it like you are trying to convince yourself of that.” My glare lost its edge, my facial expression lightening up, amused by his comment.

Aaron shifted, swinging his legs over the couch and standing with me in his arms, making me wrap my legs around his waist so I wouldn’t fall. I laughed, looking down at him as he carried me into the kitchen and set me down. “So, what’s on the menu for tonight?” he asked, leaning against one of my counters while I opened the fridge to gather the ingredients to make a meal. “Salmon, potatoes, and asparagus. And because you don’t like when I drink, red wine,” I informed him, setting things on the counter and moving to gather more things. “Where are the glasses?”

I jerked my head, “top cabinet on the left.” He pulled out two glasses before rummaging through my drawers for a corkscrew to open the bottle of red wine. “I’m not a wine expert so don’t expect much,” I muttered, pulling out a baking sheet to bake the fish on. He chuckled, pulling out the cork and pouring two glasses of wine. “Would you like any help?” he asked, swirling the wine in his glass. I looked down, thinking about what I was doing, “no. It’s all going on this baking sheet and baking in an oven.” He nodded, sipping his wine. I took out a knife and cutting board, slicing into some little potatoes and putting them on the baking sheet. I covered those with olive oil and some seasoning and stuck that into a preheated oven. “Now we wait,” I said, picking up my wine glass.

* * *

** Author’s Note **

  
Hey everyone, it’s me. That one fuckhead who is writing this story. First, I would like to thank you all for all the amazing support on this fic. It is really awesome. All of you have been super nice and super sweet, and that is really appreciated. Second, I have figured out how I want to write the rest of this fic. Basically, all of the main chapters will be from Reese’s POV, but as we go along there will be more flashbacks, alternating from Reese and Hotch’s POV. This will give more backstory to the characters and give more context to certain situations (as well as tie up loose ends lol). The word count for those will be shorter as they are meant to be like half of a chapter rather than a continuation of the given plot. Lastly, I celebrated 3 years of life after attempting suicide two days ago. Because of that, these chapters are somewhat heavier and reflect more of my own thoughts about myself, they are simply expressed through the thoughts of a fictional character I made up in my head. That being said, I do want to encourage those that are struggling to reach out. Here are some links and resources for situations and issues covered in this fanfic (most of them are for the U.S. as that is where I live):

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 800-272-8255  
Link to their website: https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/

The Trevor Project: https://www.thetrevorproject.org/trvr_support_center/self-injury/

Crisis Text Line: https://www.crisistextline.org/topics/self-harm/#what-is-self-harm-1

National Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-4673

National Domestic Violence Hotline: 800-799-7233  
Link to their website: https://www.thehotline.org/

Please stay safe, stay strong, and please stay awesome. You all are truly wonderful. Catch you in the next chapter.

-Mitch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, kind stranger :) catch you in the next one


	26. Family Celebration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of depression and suicidal ideology. 
> 
> Hello all! I really don't know how to feel about this chapter. I'm kind of hitting a wall so I understand it isn't the strongest. Anyways, happy reading! Hope you enjoy :)

“Seize the day, and put the least possible trust in tomorrow.”  
-Horace

* * *

I was laying in my bed, staring at my ceiling in almost complete darkness, the room cold and silent. I had been through a lot, and while I felt tired, I refused to shut my eyes and go to sleep. Every time I closed them, I was back in that concrete room or Aaron’s face twisting into horror at finding me covered in blood, cut up and high. I replayed that moment back in my mind over and over, relistening to his words. How broken he sounded. How much he pleaded with me. The sound haunted me, even over the music playing in my ear. The song “Train Wreck” by James Arthur reflecting my mood and deepening my thoughts about everything that had happened. _Will this ever get better? Will life ever get easier? Will I ever feel like I am enough? Is there such a thing as happy endings? I hope there is, for my sake. Hope._

My alarm to wake up went off, signaling I needed to wake up and go do something productive with my time. I turned the alarm off, looking back up at the ceiling. _How long have I been awake?_ Aaron had gone home a little while after I had finished making dinner. He had a son and I understood his need to spend time with him too. It took me a little while to convince Aaron that I would be fine in my apartment by myself. The truth was that I was terrified. Terrified of my own mind and thoughts. I was terrified to go back to sleep and slip into another nightmare. Another trigger. I was being torn apart and I hated it. I hated myself. I felt numb, my mind and body being taken over by my lack of emotion. I nothing left to give, and I simply couldn’t bring myself to feel. It was too hard. Too difficult.

I knew it was 8am from the alarm. I felt my phone vibrate, indicating someone had text me. I looked at the message on the screen, reading the words but not truly grasping them. I was too lost in the abyss to grasp much of anything.

_Hotch: Call me when you wake up. I want to make sure you are ok._

I clicked on his name, hitting the small green call button and putting the phone on speaker. I pulled the earbuds out of my ear, waiting for Aaron to pick up the phone. He answered quickly, “good morning Reese.” I blinked, my mind blank, not registering the words for a few seconds. “Hi,” I replied, my voice quiet. The line was silent for a few moments, no sound coming from the other side. Finally, Aaron broke the silence, “are you alright?” I let out an exhalation, deciding what to say. I was tired of lying to him. Tired of lying to myself. I was tired. My voice cracked as I answered, my voice coming out as a whisper, “no.” I stared at my ceiling, numb and cold and tired and broken. So incredibly broken. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, his voice becoming soft in an attempt to comfort me. I didn’t know what to talk about. What to say. “What do you want me to say?” I asked, devoid of any emotion.

I heard a door close, indicating that he closed his office door to allow us some privacy while we spoke. “What are you thinking about right now? What sticks out the most?” he asked. I tried to search through my thoughts to pick out what caused all of this. Everything did just as much as nothing did. “Everything. From last night and from years ago. Everything is just coming at me at one time and I just have nothing left,” I said warily. “Did you get any sleep?” he asked, continuing his questioning. “No…” I answered, not offering anything more. “Sweetheart,” he said, sighing, “you need sleep. Why didn’t you sleep?” I swallowed, trying to piece my words together carefully, “every time I close my eyes I see your face from last night and all I can do is feel like trash for hurting you and for lying to you and I just…” I exhaled, my hands covering my eyes and rubbing them.

The line remained silent for a moment before Aaron spoke again, “baby, you scared me. You didn’t hurt me. I’m going to ask you to do something. Can you at least listen to me?” I nodded, “yeah, of course.” He inhaled and exhaled, confusing me as to why he seemed cautious. “Will you start seeing a therapist? You need to see someone who can give you professional advice,” he said, his inflection one of caution. He didn’t want to upset me, but he did have a point. I wrestled with the idea, hating it yet understanding it. But it meant that he cared. It was proof. And because of that, I would agree. I would do it. “Yes…” I said, still not 100% sure about the idea but accepting it. “Thank you. Now please get some sleep. Don’t make me come over there,” Aaron warned playfully. And just like that, a piece of me felt relieved. “Yes sir,” I responded, a small smile spreading across my face. “Good boy,” he praised lightly, “go to sleep. I’ll call you later tonight. Bye, baby boy.”

“Bye bello,” I said, hanging up and sighing. I tossed my phone to the side, closing my eyes and trying to get to sleep.

* * *

**_*two weeks later*_ **

  
I strolled through the doors of the BAU at my normal time, trying to get a jump start on all the work I had missed over the 2 weeks I had been away. To my surprise, everyone was already at the office. “Hey kid! Welcome back,” Derek said, smiling at me with his mug in his hand. I smiled back, “hey Derek.” I keep walking, sitting down behind my desk and sighing. “You have no idea how much I have missed being here,” I told him, happy that I finally had something productive to do with my time. Spencer noticed me, walking back to his desk stirring his sugary coffee, “Reese! Thank god you are back.” I laughed, knowing that without me to pick on, Prentiss and Morgan would have been picking on him. “Glad to see you too, genius,” I replied, still laughing, “how was Halloween without me here to play tricks on?” I looked at Spencer pointedly, knowing he was quite the trickster when given the opportunity.

Derek groaned this time. “When your birthday rolls around in a week and a half, don’t be surprised when I get you a bottle of Jager as payback,” Derek warned, glaring at Spencer. I laughed, “I won’t be too upset, but you don’t have to get me anything. I don’t celebrate my birthday.” That’s when I heard an audible gasp from Penelope Garcia, shocked that I didn’t celebrate something everyone else thought was important. “Reese Jacob Benson. We are going to celebrate your birthday and you are going to like it!” Penelope exclaimed, making me roll my eyes. Emily laughed, “she even hit you with the full name. That’s how you know she’s serious.” I glanced over at Emily, shooting her a scowl before returning my focus to Penelope. “How did you guys even know my birthday was coming up? I haven’t told anyone!” I exclaimed, confused as to why everyone seemed to know. _Hotch wouldn’t do that to me, would he? How did he know?_

Penelope giggled, “honey, please. I always know. I have access to your records and therefore I keep up with my family’s birthdays. And yours is no exception.” I threw my hands up in exasperation, “you guys do not need to celebrate my birthday. I hate celebrating it.” Penelope’s jaw dropped open, confused as to why someone would hate the idea of celebrating the day, they came into the world with everyone they were close to. “Anyways, where is Hotch? I have a psych eval today and I need to know what time to get there,” I announced, looking at the others expectedly. They would know considering they beat me here. “Hotch is in his office,” Spencer informed me, pointing up to where Hotch was in his office. I nodded, “thanks. And do not try and surprise me with some birthday celebration. I will feel bad.”

I escaped to Hotch’s office quickly, knocking and entering, a look of wariness on my face. “They are really adamant on celebrating my birthday,” I told him, exasperated and a little overwhelmed. Hotch looked up from what he was doing, grinning and laughing. “They tend to be that way, especially with newer team members,” Hotch explained, finding my facial expression amusing. “What time is my psych eval? The quicker I get it over with the quicker I can get back to work,” I asked, wanting to get that over and done with as quick as possible. “It’s in 20 minutes. Agent Amanda Colson will be administering it. It’s down the hall from Garcia’s office. Her names on the door,” he informed me. I sighed, “thank you, boss.” I walked out of the door, taking my time and mentally preparing myself for this eval that I really didn’t care about.

**  
An hour later I was sitting back down at my desk, typing out reports, signing things, consulting, the usual. My phone vibrated in my pocket, making me pause and look at the screen.

_Penelope: Reese doesn’t want to celebrate his birthday. So, what are the plans for the 16th because we will be celebrating whether he wants to or not._   
_Derek: We could always drag him to a club or something._   
_Emily: You do remember he’s gay right? Idiot._   
_Derek: Shut up, Prentiss_   
_Rossi: Family dinner?_   
_Me: We are not celebrating my damn birthday. No. I refuse._   
_Spencer: That’s not how it works, but ok._

I pursed my lips, somewhat frustrated by Garcia’s persistence in wanting to celebrate my birthday.

  
_Me: No, that is actually how that works. You are going to have to physically drag me there._   
_Emily: Derek and I can do that. No problem._   
_Me: Fuck off, Em._   
_Rossi: So, family dinner?_   
_Derek: Sounds good to me. See you there, kid._   
_Penelope: Great!! We can go after work. There’s a decent Mexican place 5 minutes away from here._   
_Emily: I’ll be there. Possibly dragging Reese behind me, but still._   
_Me: Am I the only one who doesn’t want to go? Boy wonder, help me out here, huh?_   
_Spencer: No, I think it’s just you. See you guys there._   
_JJ: I bet I can get Will and Henry there too. Big family gathering and all that jazz for one of our family members._   
_Me: WTF._

Finally, the man of the damn hour tapped into the match. Reese Benson vs. everyone else in the BAU.

_Hotch: We are celebrating as a family. That’s a direct order._

I looked up from my phone and up at Hotch’s window, looking at Hotch who was staring down at me with a smirk on his face. My jaw dropped open, stunned and even more overwhelmed by this entire ordeal. I really didn’t want to celebrate my birthday but apparently that didn’t matter. I was going to according to everyone else.

_Me: You CANNOT be serious. I refuse to believe this is actually happening. No way in hell. I’m dreaming._   
_Hotch: Nope, this is ACTUALLY happening. You will be there, whether you like it or not. I’ll make sure Jack is there._

I looked up at him, glaring. He cocked an eyebrow in response, clearly serious about all of this. I was not too pleased with my team at the moment.

_Me: You guys fucking suck._

I turned off my phone, shoving into my pocket and returning to the work I had at hand. I worked through the day efficiently, not taking any breaks or getting up at all. I wanted to be able to try and figure out how to get out of the entire birthday thing when I went home. _Maybe I’ll just call in sick that day. Or I can say I have plans with old friends and then bunker down at home._ I typed on my keyboard, trying to finish writing e-mails to other people in other departments and to people who needed me to finish things in the office. This was always pretty mundane. Case work was what made the job worth it, though. Not that I enjoyed people dying and getting tortured or anything. I clicked send on an e-mail, glancing down at the time displayed in the bottom righthand corner of my monitor. _7:05pm._

I looked up, taking note of who was here and who gone as well as who was leaving. Spencer, Emily, and Derek had already taken off, going home to do who knows what. JJ and Hotch were probably in their offices. Rossi was getting ready to leave. I logged out of my computer, turning it off and gathering my things. I slid my desk drawer open, retrieving the black swiss army knife and sliding it in my pocket. I closed my drawer, sighing as I sat back to ensure I had everything I needed. _Everything but sanity_. I stood, walking leisurely towards the elevators, feeling somewhat tired. I hit the call button, acknowledging Rossi as he came to stand next to me. “How’s it going passerotto?” Rossi asked, taking a stance next to me and waiting patiently. I glanced at him, noticing the nickname, “little sparrow?” He nodded, impassive, “yup.”

I simply nodded, returning my gaze to the elevator. “It’s going. I’m trying to figure out ways to get out of celebrating my birthday with all of you crazy people,” I told him, stepping into the elevator when it opened. Rossi nodded, punching a button on the panel before stepping back to stand next to me. “It’s not a bad thing, you know. Besides, I don’t think Penelope will let you get out of it,” he said simply. I shrugged, smiling. “Penelope really doesn’t let things like that go, huh?” I asked, already knowing the answer. He smiled, “you have no idea. She can be quite stubborn.” That made me chuckle. Penelope Garcia could always find a way to get people to go out, no matter how much they didn’t want to. She was very persistent, and I respected that about her. I appreciated that she wasn’t an asshole about it, though. “Well then I guess I’m going,” I muttered, still not thrilled about the idea.

* * *

My birthday came too quick for my liking. The worse part was that it fell on a Friday (that isn’t accurate, but idgaf about timelines folks). I woke up at my normal time, groaning because I knew what was coming when I stepped into the office. I walked over to my closet, pulling out a suit so I could at least use clothing as an excuse to get out of clubbing should it be suggested. It’s not that I didn’t like clubbing with my team, it’s that I didn’t want to do more than I had to on this god forsaken day. My suit choice today was navy blue with a black dress shirt minus the tie. I just didn’t feel like tying one. I folded a black pocket square and put that in my dress pocket before clipping my I.D. onto it as well.

I stepped into my bathroom, styling my hair and going about my normal routine. I smiled, thinking about the only thing I could really look forward to tonight. Aaron had told me not to get myself off, meaning that I was most likely going to get my brains fucked out. _Am I really ready to have sex?_ I bit my lip, thinking about whether I was in the right place to do so. I think so. _Because I trust Aaron. He’s not willing to hurt me unless I tell him he can and even then, I know he would stop if I told him to._ I took a deep breath, resigning myself to the fact that I was going to at least try to initiate sex if I could. I had been like this in college, not really sure if I could bring myself to have any sort of sexual relationships after what I had gone through. But it had been 2 months. I was picking up the pieces and moving forward.

I had already gotten a therapist who was pretty nice for the most part. He could be a little off putting some days, but I think that’s more of a me thing than a him thing. My bigger problems now were sleeping and eating. Somedays I struggled when people touched me unexpectedly but that really wasn’t a problem either. I had gone through this before and now I was doing it again, this time I simply had more people on my team to help me through. I stepped into my living room, making sure I had everything I needed to go to the office. I sighed, preparing myself for the insanity about to ensue.

**  
I walked briskly through the glass doors of the BAU, my mind on high alert for any pleasantries that were so over the top I would need to run the other way. I was pleased to find my desk wasn’t covered in cards or anything. So far everything was normal. I smiled to myself, turning on my computer and then making my way over to the kitchenette to get a cup of coffee. Derek, Emily, and Spencer were all talking among each other as they each prepared their coffee. “Morning,” I said, reaching into one of the cabinets to grab a classic FBI mug. “Morning, kid. Happy birthday!” Derek replied, shooting me his signature smile. I sighed, pouring some coffee into my mug and reaching for the sugar. “Happy birthday, Reid 2.0,” Prentiss said, smiling wickedly. I rolled my eyes, looking at Reid and waiting for him to say something. “Happy birthday, Reese. Birthdays are actually originally a pagan ritual used to help the celebrant protect themselves from demons in the coming year,” Reid rambled.

“Huh. I’ll keep that in mind,” I retorted, walking away from the kitchenette to find JJ and Penelope holding a cake by my desk. “Guys…” I started, in disbelief that they had even gone out to buy a cake for me. Hotch and Rossi were standing over the bullpen, smiling as they watched me and the rest of the team. Penelope was clearly the most excited about it, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY BOY WONDER JUNIOR!” I stepped back, leaning back to mimic shock. “Thank you, Penelope,” I said, wandering over to where they were standing, “and thank you JJ. I appreciate the cake, but you really didn’t have to do this for me.” Penelope scoffed, taken aback by my seeming audacity to refuse the need to celebrate with something as simple as a cake. **Happy 25th Birthday Reese!** I smiled, happy even though I wasn’t one for theatrics or celebration of self.

“Buon compleanno, passerotto!” Rossi announced over the bullpen, walking down the stairs with Hotch not far behind. “Grazie, grazie!” I said back, grinning like an idiot. It felt nice to know that my team did care, no matter how much my mind said they didn’t. That simply wasn’t true. JJ was lighting the few candles that sat atop my cake. The cake was a small rectangle, covered in chocolate frosting with black frosting and detailing. It was very… me, which I liked. It was more neutral. JJ held it up, the entire team starting to sing happy birthday. I just smiled, listening to the collective effort and blushing slightly. “Blow ‘em out, kid!” Derek announced loudly. I blew the candles out, everyone clapping and smiling at me. “Thank you, everyone. You really didn’t have to do this,” I told them, trying to be humble.

Penelope waved me off, “yes we did. You are family and will be treated as such.” I shrugged, scratching my head, “whatever you say.” That elicited a laugh from the rest of my team. Rossi came over, clapping me on the back, the sound loud. I grimaced, “thank you for that, good sir.” He just smiled, pulling my face close and kissing the sides of my face. _Gotta love Uncle Rossi, huh._ Derek was next, pulling me into a brief hug. That pattern continued up until Spencer and Hotch. Spencer kept his distance and Hotch shook my hand like the professional he was. I knew that would change later, mostly because he winked at me. JJ held out a paper plate with a small slice of cake on it. I took it from her, giving her an appreciative nod and picking up a plastic fork. And that’s what we did. We stood around my desk and ate cake for a half hour until I made everyone go back to work. “Save this energy for when you drag me out to dinner later,” I said, pushing people away.

Everyone just laughed but did as I asked and went back to their respected areas to get some work done. “At least they didn’t get me any gifts,” I muttered to myself, happy that I hadn’t received anything. I sat down, typing on my keyboard and trying to shift my brain into focus. I did that happily, getting lost in the paperwork and e-mails and consults that kept moving across my desk. I picked up a file, scowling down at it and walking into Hotch’s office. It was odd because it was a copy of my psych eval from two weeks earlier. “Hey what is this?” I asked, holding it up for Hotch to see. He squinted, beckoning me to move closer. I sat it down in front of him, taking the liberty of sitting down for what could be a long and serious conversation. He looked down at the file, his eyes taking on a hard gleam. He scoffed, pushing the file back at me, “it’s just a copy of the psych eval if you want it. You don’t have to keep it.” I nodded, relief flooding over me.

He chuckled, leaning over his desk to hand me the file. I took it from him, setting it in my lap. “Well, I am going to go back to work and dreading the oncoming night of celebrations,” I announced, standing up. He laughed, offering me a small smile. I smiled back, the feelings of mutual happiness infectious, especially when Hotch was smiling at the office in the middle of a workday. I exited his office to get back to my work, counting down the minutes until I had to go out to ‘family dinner’ with my team.

**  
“Come on kid! Time to get out and get some dinner,” Derek said, smacking me on the back of the head. I glared up at him, rubbing the back of my head. “Can you not do that?” I asked, turning back to my screen and logging out of it. “What? Smack you? Nah,” he told me, smirking at me. I stood up, picking up my jacket from the back of my office chair and shrugging into it, buttoning the first button. Everyone was waiting by the elevator, talking amongst themselves about god knows what. “Ready?” I asked, taking a stand by Spencer and Emily and look expectedly at everyone else. “Yep,” was the collective murmur. I paused, “um… where exactly are we going? No one actually filled me in on that part.” I looked at Penelope, knowing that she was the one who put this whole thing together. “I just sent you the address,” Penelope answered, the notification popping up on my phone and alerting me with a ding.

I stepped into the elevator, letting everyone follow me as we stepped in. Derek and Penelope were doing their normal flirting, Rossi and Hotch were talking about something in the profiling world, Spencer, Emily, and JJ were talking about something and I was just standing there awkwardly. “So, how’s it feel to be 25?” Spencer asked, turning his attention from his JJ and Emily to me. I thought about it, biting my bottom lip, “um… it’s… you know it’s… interesting.” Spencer smiled, stifling his laugh, “yeah?” I nodded, grinning back at him, “yeah.” The elevator doors opened, letting the 8 of us out. I fidgeted with my car keys, saying brief goodbyes so that I could get to my car and then drive to eat dinner at a Mexican place with who I considered to be my family. _Family. What a weird concept._ I thought about how I didn’t have any living relatives left. That I was the last of my bloodline still alive. The end of it, too.

The Mexican place was somewhat full when we got there. Will, Henry, and Jack were all waiting in the lobby for us to get there. Will was the first to greet me, “happy birthday little man.” Will had the thickest southern accent I had ever heard in my entire life and it made it hard to understand him sometimes. Even with me being from the south. “Thanks,” I said, extending my hand for a handshake. “Happy birthday Reese,” Jack and Henry said and the same time. I leaned down, hugging them both, “thank you fellas.” I stood back up, smiling. The hostess lead us back to a table and we took a seat. I was between Spencer and Hotch, laughing about some story Rossi had about being in the marines.

“Can you believe I almost joined the navy?” I asked, taking a sip of my water and leaning back to take in everyone’s reactions. I heard Jack pipe up, “you were almost a solider!?” I chuckled, setting my water on my napkin on the table, “yep. Almost.” Henry looked at me from the other side of the table, curious as ever. “Why didn’t you?” he asked, invested in this line of conversation. I shrugged, “just wasn’t for me. I didn’t want to have to go across the world to other places and hurt innocent people.” Henry nodded, clearly thinking about that very seriously. It made me smile, his innocence to the world around him a bright spot in my overall dark thoughts about the world. We sat and ate, eating and enjoying conversation with each other for a while. I had to admit, I was enjoying myself. I liked just talking with my team with things that weren’t so serious. Finally, the motion was made to disband and go our separate ways, well before one more thing.

Penelope handed me a box wrapped in navy blue wrapping paper. “You really didn’t have to do this,” I said, taking the package from her and looking at her with sincere eyes. “We all chipped in for it. Open it!” Penelope demanded, clearly excited about it. I started ripping the shiny paper, balling it all together so that it could be thrown away. I bit my bottom lip, trying to contain my emotions. I pulled the lid off the cream box, revealing a pair of cufflinks. I looked up, cocking an eyebrow, “cufflinks?” Penelope nodded, “look at the face of them.” I pulled one out of where it was shoved into its indentation meant to keep it secure, flipping it to look at the face. They were silver with an onyx marble face and my initials engraved with some sort of blue filling in the space. “They are stunning… thank you. These must have been expensive,” I started, but I was cut off by JJ. “We wanted you to have something special.”

I got up, hugging everyone and thanking them. It put them back in the box, holding it tightly. I was so happy. They cared. They actually cared. We paid our tabs, each of us taking our leave to exit the restaurant and stand outside to say our goodbyes. “Thank you all. This was a great birthday. Seriously,” I told them, a wide smile on my face. I said my goodbyes, lingering for Aaron to make his plans. Jack was going to stay with Henry, leaving me with Aaron for an entire night. “What’s your evil plan? I know you have one,” I said, crossing my arms and cocking my eyebrows. He gave me a wolfish grin. “You’ll see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)


	27. Reclamation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some good ole birthday sex and shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehe, enjoy this you crazy people. Happy reading.

“Originality is independence, not rebellion; it is sincerity, not antagonism.”  
-George Henry Lewes

* * *

“You’ll see,” was all he told me about what was going to happen to me. “Wow, thanks. That is really specific and really helpful,” I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes, “my place or yours?” He grinned, “mine. Unless you want to change clothes.” I shook my head, “I brought a bag. Figured it was a smart move.” He nodded, impressed by my insight on what his plans were. “Well, I’ll meet you there. You know the way, right?” he asked, walking towards the direction of his car. I nodded, waving him off. I stepped towards my car, unlocking it and stepping into the driver’s seat. I started it, putting on some music and preparing myself for the rest of the night ahead.

**

  
I parked outside Aaron’s apartment complex and waited for him outside the building. I spent the time mentally preparing and listening to music. The norm for me. He approached me leisurely, his hands in his pockets and wicked grin on his face. “Shall we?” he asked coolly. I nodded, taking my earbuds out and following him inside the building. I nodded at the lady at the front desk and waited in silence next to Aaron for the elevator. The elevator dinged and the doors opened, letting out a younger couple making me shift to let them by. I again nodded politely and moved forward to step into the elevator, waiting in the back of the car. Aaron pressed the button for his floor and stepped back, drawing me into his side. His fingers stroked over my shoulder, making me relax into him. The doors opened, letting us out. I followed Aaron dutifully, leaning next to his door while he opened it. He entered first, flicking on the lights while I closed the door.

“Why don’t we change clothes?” Aaron suggested. I simply nodded, kicking off my shoes and then walking down his hallway to move into his bedroom. I shrugged out of my jacket, glancing back I yelled, “hey do you have any hangers? I don’t want to wrinkle this jacket.” He stepped into the room, shedding his own jacket and reaching into his closet to pull out two coat hangers. “Thank you, good sir. Jacket savior,” I told him, sliding my jacket onto the hanger and hanging it up. He started changing and I did the same. I threw on some sweats and a t-shirt, sitting back on the bed and watching him change. I licked my bottom lip, “I will never get over how damn good you look.” He chuckled, throwing a shirt over his head before turning and walking over to me. “Come on, I have something for you,” he said, smiling. I cocked my eyebrows, skeptical of his surprise.

I got up, reluctant, but still. I followed him out. “Sit,” he ordered, gesturing towards the couch. I flopped down on the couch, watching him flick on the T.V. and start playing some music. I didn’t focus on what the music was, instead I focused on what he was doing. When he moved out of my relative vision I didn’t turn, I simply let him go about what he was doing. He came back a few moments later with a small black box, a black ribbon tied around it to keep it closed. “Why do I feel like this isn’t more cufflinks?” I joked, making him smile. “Open it,” he ordered, handing me the box. I took it from him, shaking it to try and tell what it was. “You didn’t have to get me anything,” I said, shooting him a guilt-ridden look. He shoved at my shoulders, “shut up and open it.” I threw up my hands, “fine.”

I pulled on the ribbon, untying it and tossing it aside. I slowly pulled off the lid, acting as though there was a bomb inside. I leaned forward, placing the lid on the coffee table before straightening to examine the item inside the black box. Inside was a black leather band with a silver clasp and a piece of metal sitting on top with something inscribed on it. I took it out of the box, examining it further. _Ad astra per aspera._ “Through adversity to the stars,” I murmured, translating the Latin phrase. I looked up, smiling. “Read the inside,” he said, leaning back against the couch and gauging my reaction. I frowned, turning it to read what was pressed into the inside of the leather. I paused, my eyes widening when I read the words _“Daddy’s boy.”_ That’s when it clicked. This was essentially a collar; it just wasn’t worn around the neck.

My mouth opened, my brain trying to say something but the words mixing together. “If you don’t like it you don’t have to wear it,” he told me, clearly trying to make sure I was still comfortable. “No, it’s great. I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all,” I said, leaning over to kiss him with a grin on my face. I flipped myself, straddling his hips and putting one of my hands on his shoulders to balance myself. He smiled up at me, one of his hands coming around the back of my head to push me down closer in order to kiss me. I obliged, happy to do so. He took over, his mouth easily claiming mine until he pulled me back, letting us both breathe. He held out his hand, “here. Give it to me.” I handed the band over, switching arms. “Left wrist. I’m left-handed,” I explained briefly. He unclasped the bracelet, wrapping it around my wrist and clasping it. It fit correctly, not cutting off my circulation but not moving.

“I know damn well that my wrist size isn’t in my file,” I said sarcastically, making him laugh. “I got your wrist size from your watches. I paid enough attention so I could get the sizing right,” he explained, letting go of my wrist and moving his hands down to grab my waist. “For once I appreciate that you’re a profiler,” I retorted, grinning down at him. His hands were running up and down the backs of my thighs, his fingers caressing me. “I want to go all the way tonight. But I won’t push it if you aren’t up for it,” he said seriously. I scoffed, taking offence to the notion that I couldn’t handle it. “I would be disappointed by anything less,” I shot back, my fingers caressing his shoulder blades. He hummed his approval of my initiative, his voice becoming a seductive purr, “did you do what daddy told you?” I let out a shaky breath, my brain and body switching gears, “would I be this excited about it if I didn’t?” That made him smile up at me wickedly.

His hand slipped under my waistband, gripping my ass while the other held me close to him. I exhaled roughly, my body melting into the touch. “I missed this,” I breathed, my cock starting to harden. “Missed what?” he asked innocently. I motioned with one of my hands, “this. You know… you doing your thing.” He chuckled, “yeah?” I nodded, “yeah.” I leaned down, kissing him and fighting for dominance as I deepened it. His tongue stroked over my mine, his teeth catching my bottom lip and biting softly. I let out a small moan into his mouth, shoving one of my hands into his hair. I pulled back, taking in a deep breath and smiling down at him. His fingers were starting to dig into me. I pulled back further, taking my shirt off and tossing it to the side. I moved my hands down, pulling on the hem of his shirt, “off.” He cocked his eyebrows, “since when did you call the shots?” I tilted my head to the side, shrugging, “since you got me hard and needy.” He laughed, leaning forward so I could take his shirt off, throwing it next to mine.

His hand moved out of my waistband, his fingers stroking through my hair. “I’m going to take my time with you tonight, sweetheart,” he informed me, his grip on my hair tightening and pulling my head back to bare my neck to him. His mouth moved to my collar bone, sucking on the skin and biting it to leave a mark. I let out a whimper, need coursing through me. I moved my hand down, trying to stroke myself through my sweats. Aaron let go of my hair, yanking my hand away and letting out a throaty growl. “Ah-ah-ah, no. You get to pleasure yourself when I say so, not any other time,” he admonished, letting go of my hands. I whimpered again, my eyes pleading with him. “No,” he emphasized, his hand moving under my waistband so that both of his hands were gripping my ass. “Are you going to behave? Because if you plan on being a brat, I’m not going to keep going.” I shook my head fiercely, “I’ll behave. I’ll behave.”

His hands squeezed my ass, making me bite my bottom lip to contain myself. I was squirming with need. “You’re so needy you can’t even stay still. Daddy’s needy little boy,” he said, his fingers hooking around my waistband to push my sweats down. I let out a small, shaky moan. “Please…” I begged, needing him to touch me. “Tell daddy what you want, baby,” he ordered. “I want you,” I answered, my mouth feeling dry. He leaned down, kissing him fiercely before reluctantly pulling back. “I want you to get up and go and kneel next to the bed and wait for me. Can you do that?” he asked, his grip on my ass loosening to let me off of him. I nodded fiercely, practically falling over as I got off of him to do what he told me. I walked down the hall, kneeling next to the foot of the bed, my head straight at the wall with my hands on my thighs. My fingers brushed over the small 6 that had become scarred over. I pushed past the memory, forcing myself into the here and now.

I kneeled there for what seemed like an eternity, my cock throbbing as need coiled tightly inside me. I returned to look at the wall, my eyes latching onto the lack of detailing and memorizing the texture. Finally, I heard Aaron’s footsteps as he approached the bedroom. Unfortunately, he chose a position where I couldn’t see him, but he could see me. “Eyes down,” he ordered authoritative as ever. My eyes moved down, staring at my thighs and the carpet. “Good boy,” he praised, moving into the room. “Safe word?” he asked expectantly. “Copland,” I replied quickly. “Good boy,” he praised again, his hand stroking over my hair before snaking down to tilt my chin up, “how do you feel about being overstimulated?” I thought about it, unsure. I shrugged, “I don’t know. We could try it and use the traffic system.” He nodded, taking my suggestion seriously and agreeing, “alright. We will do that.”

“Stand up and strip, they lay face down on the bed,” he ordered, backing up and moving to his bedside table to retrieve some things. I fell onto the bed as I stripped my pants off, tripping over the clothing as I rushed to get out of it. I laughed, pushing it off as I flipped over to lay face down. “That eager, sweetheart?” he asked teasingly. “I haven’t gotten off in 2 and a half weeks in preparation for this. So yeah, I am very eager,” I remarked, reciprocating his teasing tone. I felt his fingers wrap around my ankle, pulling me roughly so that my ass was bent over the bed, my feet on the carpeted floor. “Color?” he asked, wanting to make sure that I was ok before he did anything. “The brightest shade of green imaginable,” I answered, needing him too much. That made him chuckle, the sound of a bottle of lube snapping open interjecting with the warm sound.

My breath hissed out from teeth as his hand spread my ass apart, his lubed finger slicking over the hole. He took his time, rimming the entrance slowly and leisurely, trying to make me as needy as possible. His arm came over me, his hand planting in front of me as he leaned over me to whisper in my ear. “I’m going to finger you and you need permission to cum the first time. After that I’m going to fuck you with my cock until you are crying for me. I want to make you cum until you fucking cry,” he whispered darkly. I shuddered, “holy fuck.” He didn’t push back up, he simply stayed planted where he was. He was going to talk shit in my ear while he made me cum for him. He pushed a finger in slowly, letting me get used to the feeling considering I hadn’t done this in months. He kept talking as he stretched me open with his fingers, “once you have permission for the first orgasm you don’t need it again. I want to wreck you, like the needy fucking whore you are. Does that sound good, baby boy? Tell daddy that it sounds good.”

I let out a high-pitched moan of appreciation, nodding fiercely. He tsked, giving me a light slap on the ass, “use your words, baby. I know you know that.” I swallowed, piecing the words together and letting them fall out of my mouth, “yes daddy.” He groaned, clearly aroused by what I called him. _He likes being called daddy as much as I like calling him daddy. That’s fucking great._ “Good boy. Such a good boy for daddy,” he praised, his finger sliding out before another was sliding in with it. I exhaled, pleasure starting to build inside me as he opened me so that he could fuck me into oblivion. His fingers crooked inside me, searching for my sweet spot. A moan was wrenched from my throat when his fingers finally hit it dead on. “God _damn!_ ” I exclaimed, picking up my head and dropping it into the bed.

His fingers drove into me at a relentless pace, never faltering or slowing. I was shaking with need when he pulled his fingers back to insert a third inside me, making me scream out of immense pleasure. My fingers were digging into the comforter, gripping it with white-knuckled force. “Please… can I cum? I need to cum so damn bad,” I pleaded, my body close to falling over the edge. Aaron didn’t let up, his fingers still moving at a torturous pace. “No. You are going to hold it,” he asserted, denying me permission. I whined, my body screaming for release. “Oh, how rough. Needing permission to cum when you are so close. Must be hard,” he taunted, enjoying how much I was writhing under him. A particular thrust of his fingers made me arch, my body shuddering from how strained I was with need. His hand came up, gripping the back of my neck and forcing me back down on the bed.

“You want to cum baby boy?” he asked, his voice becoming rough and low. “Yes… please daddy,” I begged, my body starting to tremble as I struggled to contain my orgasm. “Oh, come now, I know you can beg better than that. Go on baby, beg daddy to let you cum like the needy little boy you are,” he demanded, his tone rough and teasing. I wasted no time begging shamelessly, “please. I need to cum so bad. Please let me cum for you daddy. Please. I want to wreck myself for you, please.” That seemed to satisfy him, his pace somehow getting faster. “Cum for daddy, baby. Be a good little slut and cum for me,” he ordered. I did so happily. “FUCK,” I yelled, my body stilling as I climaxed. I was panting, my face buried in the comforter, my grip on it loosening as a wave of pleasure overtook me. Aaron withdrew his fingers, his body still levered over me. “Can I cum inside you or do you want me to use a condom?” he asked, his inflection taken over by seriousness.

I thought about it, my brain still scattered from a mind-blowing orgasm. I thought about that man cumming inside me and shivered, hating how he some how ‘claimed me.’ It made me want to give everything to Aaron just to prove that I was his rather than some disposable item that was only good for being raped. “Raw,” I responded, preparing myself for what was going to be a long ride. I felt him grinning against my skin as he nuzzled behind my ear and bit the lobe. “Color?” he asked in my ear. “Green,” I replied breathlessly. He let out a satisfied sigh, “now, sweetheart, I’m going to fuck whatever sense is left in your brain, out of it. Ready?” I nodded, groaning in anticipation. He moved back, straightening to lube his cock and position himself at my entrance. I could feel him pressing in ever so slightly as he came back over me, his hands in front of my shoulders.

I pushed my hips back, trying to take more of him. He pulled back, denying me his cock. He smacked my ass again, harder this time. “Don’t make me pull out and spank you, baby boy,” he warned, making me whine out of need. I wanted him. I wanted him too much. He pushed back in slowly, taking his sweet time and using his endless self-control. I let out a long exhalation as he pushed in, taking me inch by inch. “Jesus fucking Christ,” I muttered, my eyes rolling back into my skull at the feeling of being filled. I felt his breath on my neck, his sweat dripping down his face onto my back. “Please…” I mumbled weakly, my body going lax under him as he pushed into the hilt and paused. “Please what, baby? You have to tell me what you want,” he admonished teasingly. “Please fuck me daddy,” I bit out, trying to keep myself still under him. “Good boy,” he praised, pulling back before thrusting back into me, his pace slow.

He was going to drive me crazy in every way he knew how. His lips were on my neck, trailing kisses down it and on my shoulders. He was leaving marks, too, but I didn’t care. I was too aroused and turned on to care. “Daddy’s obedient little cockslut… mmm _fuck_ ,” he groaned, his thrusts slow and leisurely. I wanted him to go faster. I needed him to go faster. “Faster, please. I need you to move faster,” I begged, my breathing coming out in short pants. He nodded, doing what I asked, his thrusts becoming faster and harder. He changed angles slightly, hitting the deep bundle of nerves and making me moan. Once he found it he started nailing it, driving me to the edge of another orgasm quickly. If his goal was to make me cum until I cried, he was going to achieve that goal. My body was becoming overstimulated as I neared my second climax. “I’m g-gonna cum,” I whispered, my voice hoarse as he drilled into my prostate.

“Cum. Cum again for me sweetheart. I want you to be sobbing with pleasure by the time I’m finished with you,” he growled, his teeth attaching to the skin behind my ear and sucking gently. I groaned as I came, his name dying on my lips. I swore my eyes crossed. “Two more. I want two more from you before I cum inside you and claim you,” he demanded roughly. I whimpered, tears coming to my eyes as I began to feel overstimulated. It wasn’t that bad, though. I still felt comfortable enough to not need to safe word. “I can’t,” I said, my voice breaking as he thrusted into me again. “Yes, you can. You’re going to be a good little slut and give me two more, aren’t you sweetheart? You know what you can say if you want me to stop, but I don’t think you want me to you filthy fucking whore,” he remarked in my ear. I felt tears leaking out of my eyes involuntarily.

He kept thrusting, his hips never relenting. He was dragging the sobs out of me, fucking me thoroughly and hard. His pace was fast and hard, hitting deep inside me. I could feel his cock stretching me, his thrusts apparent through my stomach. One of his hands reached around us, his hand on my stomach feeling his cock fucking me through my stomach. “Feel that, baby? That’s my cock stretching and claiming your tight, little hole,” he bit out, his breathing rough and heavy as he pushed into me. I moaned into the sheets, the thick comforter muffling my noises. “That’s it. Take my cock like a good boy. You want to be a good boy for daddy, don’t you sweetheart?” he taunted, his words starting to become clipped as I was reaching my third orgasm. A cry was wrenched from my throat as he drilled into me, my hips moving back to match his thrusts. “Please, I can’t… I can’t,” I sobbed, my body so overstimulated I didn’t think I could stand it. Then another orgasm came over me, the pleasure swallowing me whole as I came, begging for him to stop as he wrecked me on his cock.

One of his hands ran through my hair, yanking on the roots and forcing my head back into his chest and shoulders. Sounds were escaping throat as he pounded my ass, his rhythm never slowing or quickening. My mouth fell open as I came again, my body trembling slightly. One of my hands went to Aaron’s, gripping on to it for dear fucking life. “You are going to cum at the same time as me,” he asserted. I felt his balls slapping against me, our bodies tangled as he fucked me. Sweat was dripping off of me, sometimes getting in my eyes. “I’m going to cum soon. I want you to tell me when you are close,” he ordered, his breathing picking up as he sped up slightly. Tears were falling from my eyes, my lungs heaving as pleasure rushed over me and gripped me tightly. I was already about to cum, my prostate overstimulated. “I’m go-gonna cum,” I croaked out, taking in a shaky breath as another sob racked my body.

He thrusted a few more times, his hips stuttering as he neared his climax. He pulled me up, one of his hands wrapping around my cock and jerking it roughly. “Cum,” he growled out. I did so immediately, screaming his name (incoherently) as I did it. He thrust inside me, keeping himself in me to the hilt and cumming, groaning as he came. “Fuck,” he snapped, his own climax taking him over. He let go of me, letting me collapse on the bed under him. I was sobbing from how well I had been fucked. The tears were making my vision blurry, my lungs trying to take in deep breaths. I felt his cum leak out of me as he pulled out. “Jesus Christ,” he whispered, clearly enjoying the sight of me wrecked and leaking his cum. He slicked some onto his fingers, setting them on my lips in a silent order to clean his fingers. I did so obediently, sucking gently and tasting the salty semen. “Good boy,” he praised gently, his eyes warm and gentle as he watched me suck on his fingers.

He scooped me up in his arms, carrying me out of the bedroom and laying on the couch with me on top of his chest. His hands stroked over me lightly, trying to soothe me. “Shhh, baby boy. I’m so proud of you. You were such a good boy for me,” he cooed, his voice gentle and soothing. I was trying to steady my breathing in hopes of using words. It wasn’t working so far. “You did so well. God, you’re such a good boy. My good boy,” he said, his words reinforcing his admiration. I nuzzled into his chest, my body finally calming down, my breathing slowing down. I held up my left wrist, showing off the bracelet that indicated his ‘ownership’ over me, “you weren’t lying.” He let out a warm laugh, the feeling of his chest vibrating making me relax. “Here, I need to get up and get you some water,” he said, trying to shift so that he could get up. I wrapped my arms around him, clinging onto him tightly, “no.”

He smiled down at me, his arms up from where I was wrapped around him. “Baby, I need to take care of you and part of that is hydration. I promise you can curl up with me after I get you water,” he said, trying to convince me to let go of him. I scowled, letting go reluctantly. “I need to grab something too. Stay here, I’ll be right back,” he said, getting up and leaving me on the couch. I curled up into a ball, closing my eyes out of tiredness. I could hear him returning but I didn’t open my eyes, I just stayed how I was. I heard the sound of a glass being set on the coffee table and the feeling of the couch dip slightly as Aaron sat down. He was next to me, his hand rubbing over my arm and ribcage. “Come here,” he said, pulling me over his lap rather than setting me in which confused me. I let out a groan in silent question. “Be still, sweetheart,” he commanded, his fingers running over my back. I felt something cold pressing into me, making me arch as it pressed inside me. Then whatever he was doing was over, the object still inside me as he flipped me, pulling me up to cradle me in his arms.

He leaned forward, picking up the glass and handing it to me. I knocked back the contents, handing the glass back and dropping my head against his shoulder. I realized that he had inserted a plug into me after a few moments, my mind still recovering from all orgasms I was given in the last half hour or so. His mouth came to my ear, sucking on my jawline and then on the lobe. “You aren’t allowed to take this out until I say so,” he asserted, his breath hot on my neck. “What’d you do that for?” I asked, still dazed. “So that you can feel my cum inside you for the rest of the night and to remind you who you belong to,” he answered, making me shudder with remembered pleasure. “Tell me who you belong to,” he commanded. “You, daddy,” I replied, my body pliant in his hands. He grinned, kissing me on the cheek, “you sure do, baby boy. I’m going to take care of you.” He pushed to his feet, holding me in his arms bridal style, my body pretty much dead weight. He carried me into the bedroom, setting me on the bed before turning and walking into the bathroom.

I heard the spray of the shower and then Aaron was back, scooping me up off the bed and taking me into the bathroom. He stood me upright, supporting me in his hold so that I wouldn’t fall over. He removed the collar from my wrist, setting it on the counter behind me. I leaned against the counter, letting him move over to the shower to check the water temperature before he came back over to me and moved me under the spray with him. I put my arms around his waist, my head resting against his chest. “Will you?” I murmured, wanting him to do all the actual work while I just stood there. He smiled, understanding what I was asking, “of course, sweetheart. Especially after how good you were for me.” I smiled shyly into Aaron’s chest, letting him massage shampoo into my hair and tilting my chin up to wash me thoroughly. I let out a content sigh, enjoying the feeling of his fingers massaging my scalp. “Enjoying yourself?” he asked, his tone dripping amusement. I simply nodded, shutting my eyes as he tipped my head back under the water to wash the soap out of my hair.

Aaron let out a small, warm laugh, his fingers stroking through my hair to keep it out of my face. He tilted my head forward again, massaging conditioner into my hair. He moved away for a moment, grabbing a bottle of body wash and squirting some into his palm. His hands rubbed the soap into my skin gently, turning me around to rub the body wash into my back. His hands caressed my ass, rubbing the soap into it and squeezing. His fingers pulled my cheeks apart, his fingers stroking over the end of the plug and making my eyes open and widen. He gave me a light smack on the ass, turning me back around and washing off the soap. “What was that for?” I whined, shooting him a small glare. He shrugged, chuckling at my whine. He tilted my head back, washing out the conditioner and turning off the water. He shuffled out of the shower, reaching into one of the cabinets and pulling out a towel. He wrapped me in the soft cloth, moving me close to him and hugging me tightly. He dried me off, bringing up the towel to dry my hair. “Stay here,” he ordered, leaving me wrapped in a towel in the bathroom.

He came back with one of his FBI shirts, silently prompting me to remove the towel so that he could throw the shirt over my head. He picked the collar up off the counter, re-securing it to my wrist and leading me out of the bathroom to his bed. He had changed the comforter and pulled the sheets down so that I could crawl into bed and go to sleep. “I’m going to take a quick shower. Take a quick nap. I took a lot out of you,” he commanded, waiting for me to get into the bed and get comfortable. I looked up at him, giving him a look of disapproval and clinging on to him tighter. “I promise we can just hang out, but I need to shower, and you need to take a nap,” he told me matter-of-factly. I let out a small whine in complaint, not in the mood to let him go. “ _Baby boy_ , you need sleep and I need to shower. You aren’t going to like it when I bend you over my lap and adjust that attitude,” he declared, his tone sending a small amount of fear through my system. It wasn’t legitimate fear in the sense that I was scared he would become abusive; it was fear in the sense that I knew he would deliver and make sure I couldn’t walk OR sit down properly. I grumbled but got into the bed, my head hitting the pillows to send my message of dissatisfaction.

I shifted, trying to become comfortable in the bed. I flipped onto my side, facing the bathroom door and pulling the sheets over me. I curled into a ball, trying to force myself to stay awake just to prove appoint but it didn’t work very well. I closed my eyes, waking up a little while later when Aaron was putting on his own clothes and moving around the room. It was one of those naps that felt like a few seconds, when it had probably been 15 to 20 minutes. Aaron noticed that I was stirring, moving to sit on the edge of the bed and stroke my hair. “Do you still want to hang out or do you just want to go to sleep? It’s getting pretty late, so I understand if you want to go to bed,” he asked softly, his fingers brushing my bangs out of my face. “No,” I mumbled, “I still want to hang out with you. I enjoy spending down time with you.” That made him smile, pleased by that small declaration. He came over me, pulling me up into his chest to pick me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist, clinging onto him as he moved us to the couch. “Let’s watch people buy houses and complain about the architecture we don’t like,” I suggested, thinking that House Hunters was a fine choice. He nodded, sitting me on the couch and then moving to get the remote for the T.V. And that was how we ended the night. Wrapped up together and laughing at new homeowners and shoppers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, kind stranger :)


	28. His

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On today's update we have some fluff and a lil bit of kink. Hope you guys enjoy :)

“The happiness of your life depends upon the quality of your thoughts: therefore, guard accordingly, and take care that you entertain no notions unsuitable to virtue and reasonable nature.”  
-Marcus Aurelius

* * *

I felt hands rubbing up and down my ribcage when I started to stir. My eyes blinked open, Aaron’s face coming into view. I scooted forward, nuzzling into his neck and chest. I shut my eyes again, trying to go back to sleep. “Good morning,” he murmured. His legs were tangled with mine, one of his arms supporting his head, the other stroking up and down my side. “Morning,” I mumbled back sleepily. He let out a deep breath, his chin tilting awkwardly to kiss the top of my head. That made me smile sleepily. “Are you ok?” he asked, trying to make sure I wasn’t shaken by some sort of nightmare or from the night we had. I nodded as best I could, one of my arms going around his waist and tightening in response. I gave him verbal confirmation anyways, “yeah.” That put him at ease. I let out a small laugh, thinking about what he had done to me a few hours before. “What’s so funny?” he asked, confused.

“You are one of the kinkiest motherfuckers I have ever had sex with, and we haven’t even done it that many times.” That made him laugh out loud, his laugh shaking me slightly. I hummed with delight, pleased that he found something I said amusing. It reassured me in a sense. His fingers came up, stroking gently over my neck. “I really marked you up last night,” he told me, admiring his handiwork and clearly pleased with himself. I made an exasperated noise. “Please tell me that I can hide them from our coworkers,” my words more of a statement rather than a question. He bit his bottom lip, containing his amusement. I shoved at his shoulder, whining at him, “Aaron. Really?” Aaron just started chuckling. “Aaron. This is not funny,” I complained, smacking him in the ribs. “Two can play that game.”

He sat up, grabbing me and yanking me over his lap roughly, giving my now upturned ass a hard smack. I yelped, my yelp turning into my breath hissing from between my teeth. “Dirty boy,” Aaron whispered, smacking my ass again. A small moan escaped my throat, my body submitting to his in an instant. Aaron hummed his approval, his hand coming down again and sending a small sting through me. “Look at that,” he murmured approvingly, “already submitting to me. You already know who you belong to, don’t you baby?” His hand caressed my ass, rubbing and kneading gently. His other hand was on the back of my neck, holding me in place. “Answer me, sweetheart,” he admonished, another slap hitting me square on the ass. “Yes sir. I belong to you. Only you,” I replied instantaneously. I heard his breath hitch slightly, his hand coming down again, making me let out a pitiful whine. My hands where fisted in the sheets, tightening their hold as he continued to spank me. “You redden up so nicely,” he stated matter-of-factly, making me blush.

I was starting to writhe on his lap, the pain becoming more prominent. “I’m going to spank you 5 more times. You’ll count them out and when I’m finished, you’ll apologize,” he asserted, a calloused hand ghosting over my ass. His hand came down without warning, making me flinch. “One.” He rubbed my ass before raising his hand and smacking me again. “Two.” His hand at my neck squeezed softly, applying enough pressure for me to get the memo to stop writhing around. His hand came down again, “three.” Two of his fingers were stroking the small hairs on the back of my neck, easily gliding down to run over the small purple love bites that peppered my skin. He spanked me again, his hand striking a little bit lower, forcing a small cry from my throat. “Four,” I breathed out. “Last one. After you count it out, you’ll apologize,” he reminded me. I held up a hand, making him pause. “Wait, wait, wait. What am I apologizing for?” I asked, my breath coming out in light pants as I spoke. I could tell he was grinning. His two fingers started moving in small circles on the back of my neck. “For complaining about me marking up my boy and for forgetting your place. And mostly for slapping me.”

I just nodded, tilting my head as I came to terms with his reasoning. He smacked me again. “Five. I sincerely apologize for smacking you in the ribs because you left marks all over me,” I said, my voice laced with sarcasm. His hand came down again, reprimanding me for being sarcastic. I resisted the urge to call him an asshole. I stilled when I felt his finger flick over the end of the plug that I had momentarily forgotten was inside me. I gasped when he hooked his fingers around it and pulled up slightly. “I’m going to take this out now. Be still,” he told me, his other hand moving into my lower back to hold me in place. He pulled it out slowly, making me tense up. “Relax, baby boy. I need you to be relax,” he said firmly, the hand at my lower back rubbing up and down trying to get my muscles to loosen. I relaxed myself, his fingers pulling the plug out the rest of the way. I sighed as he leaned over to put the plug on the bed side table, my body going lax. “Get up here,” Aaron said, pulling me up to settle into his side. I moved half-heartedly, already feeling somewhat worn out. _We did go pretty hard last night. He has too much stamina for his own good and it is going to be the death of me._

I curled into his side, resting my head against him awkwardly. It wasn’t a comfortable position, but I still wasn’t complaining. I like simply being near him. It made me happy. I knew that Aaron knew that and because of that he simply smiled down at me. It made me shy almost every time. Like I was embarrassed about it. “Always so sexually confident but the second we are simply being intimate or I’m just looking at you, you get all shy. What’s that about?” he asked, amusement smattered all over his face. I turned my head, trying to avoid his eyes and dodge the question. That made him laugh as his thumb stroked over my cheek. I pulled my face back a bit so that he would be able to hear me. “It’s not my fault that you are all,” I gestured at all of him, “and that it does things to me. I’m not usually one for intimacy. I’ve kept my distance from people my entire life.” His smile thinned a bit, as though he was somewhat sorry that I had always felt the need to be alone. My life was marred with toxic and abusive relationships and experiences.

He leaned down, kissing my hair. “Then it’s a good thing that I’m here. I’m not going to let anyone else hurt my boy,” he murmured, one of his hands lightly clutching my hair and pulling my face back so that I wouldn’t have any other choice but to look at him. His declaration made me shiver, a sharp breath escaping my lungs. His look was intense, hunger and possessiveness clear in his dark eyes. He continued on, “if someone even looks at you the wrong way, I swear to god I’ll snap them in half. No one, and I mean no one, gets to hurt _my_ boy and get away with it. Never again.” I swallowed at that statement, because he meant it. He meant every damn word. My eyes grew impossibly wide when he leaned down and kissed me soundly, my eyes closing as he did so. I melted into it, my arm coming up to rest around his neck. Aaron pulled back, his hands holding my face. “Mine,” he hissed out, trying to drive his point home. I nodded frantically, _“yours.”_ That made him grin wickedly, pleased with my eagerness to agree with his claim.

I lifted my left hand, showing him the leather band around it. He rolled us deftly, levering over me and staring down at me. He caged me in, a seductive smile on his face. I reached up tentatively, touching his cheek and stroking over it. “You’re mine. I don’t care that no one knows it. You know it, and that’s what counts,” he told me, leaning down to trail kisses along my jawline. “You are really possessive, huh?” I asked, smirking at that trait. He pulled back, setting two fingers on my lips. I opened my mouth obediently, letting him push his fingers into my mouth and sucking on them. He let out a noise of satisfaction. “I am the only man who will get to do this to you. I will be the only man that fucks that tight ass of yours. I will be the only other person who makes you beg and cry to let you cum. I am the only one who will do anything intimate with you,” he asserted darkly. I moaned around his fingers. He pulled them out of my mouth slowly, trailing his damp fingers down my chin and neck.

He kissed me briefly before climbing off me and getting off the bed. “Let’s clean you up,” he said, jerking his head towards the bathroom. I sat there for a moment, composing myself and taking a few deep breaths. I stood on shaky legs, moving slowly towards Aaron and the bathroom. I stood in the threshold of the door, waiting for him to give me another order. “Come here.” I moved to where Aaron told me to stand, facing him and waiting again. He turned me around, pushing my back slightly so that I was somewhat bent over. He ran a warm washcloth between my legs, cleaning me off gently. He pressed a kiss to my shoulder before straightening and moving away. I straightened, inspecting myself in the mirror. I gaped when I saw all the small purple marks. I knew there would be some, but this was absurd. They covered my neck, shoulders, chest, and upper back. Aaron came back, laughing when he found me gaping at myself and trying to look at all the love bites that covered me.

He approached me, wrapping his arms around me and ducking his head to look at me in the mirror from over my shoulder. “I need to go get Jack. Do you want to get breakfast with us?” he asked, ignoring my shock at how many hickies I was covered in. I registered the question, pulling my gaze from my neck to his eyes in the mirror. “Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude and if he’s at JJ’s it might look weird if I show up with you. They don’t know we are fucking each other,” I said, skeptical of the idea. I was not in the mood to get fired. He waved me off, “It’s ok. Jack likes you and you need to eat. If JJ asks, you got drunk and called me and then slept at my apartment,” he reassured. I nodded, springing into another question, “can we please cover the ones on my neck? I don’t want to put up with all the teasing and weird looks from other people. I mean it’s not like I won’t know they are there.” He thought about it, looking at the pleading look in my eyes. “Sure. But only the ones visible when you put your shirt on.”

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Thank you,” I said, feeling relieved. He patted me on the ass, “put some clothes on and then we can go.” He let go of me and let me get ready. I put on some blue jeans and an old college t-shirt. I put on a pair of vans I had in my bag. I brushed my teeth and combed my hair. I shoved everything back in my bag and put it in the living room so I could grab it when we came back so I could get my car. Aaron had some band aids on the table. “Sit down and let me cover those up.” I moved to sit down in front of him, tilting my head so that he could cover the bites before tilting to the other side so he could cover those too. He finished up, balling up the excess pieces of paper and walking towards the kitchen to throw them away. “Thanks,” I said, standing back up. He came back, pressing a kiss to my head and walking towards the door, opening it and waiting for me to exit. I tapped my pockets, making sure I had my wallet and phone before walking out the door.

**  
A waitress was setting us down at a table in the middle of an IHOP. I waited for Aaron and Jack to sit down, not wanting to infringe on their normal arrangements. I felt awkward. Out of place. Aaron and Jack sat opposite of each other, so I moved to the inside of the table and sat down next to Aaron, opening a menu and skimming over the options. I tapped my foot, feeling nervous for no apparent reason. I could feel Aaron’s eyes on me, but I didn’t look up. I focused on selecting something to eat. I hadn’t eaten at an IHOP in years. “What are getting buddy?” Aaron asked, looking at his son with a smile on his face. Jack smiled back, “chocolate chip pancakes.” I looked up, nodding my approval, “good choice.” I looked back down, knowing I was going to get some coffee at bare minimum. I decided on French toast, leaving my menu open but looking back up and leaning back in my seat.

“How have you been Jack?” I asked, trying to make some sort of conversation to hide my nervousness. He smiled at me, starting to babble on about everything going on in his innocent little world. I listened intently, nodding and making sure he understood I was paying attention to him. Our waitress interrupted us. Jack ordered chocolate chip pancakes. I ordered some French toast and some coffee. Aaron got some combo meal that came with a myriad of items. I returned to talking with Jack. “What are you learning in school? I used to like school as a kid,” I said, taking a sip of my water and letting Jack speak. He let out a groan, clearly not a fan of the thought of school. I stifled a laugh, biting my bottom lip to contain it. “I think school is kinda dumb,” Jack stated bluntly, rolling his eyes, “literature is the worst, though. The stories we have to read are so boring and spelling tests are annoying.” I nodded, accepting his criticism of his school curriculum. “What subjects do you like? I know you have a favorite.”

He thought about it for a moment before answering, “science. It’s fun learning about why things are the way they are. I like knowing how things work.” That made me smile, very much approving of his answer. “I do too. That’s why I went to school for psychology. Do you know what psychology is? I bet you do. You’re a pretty smart kid,” I told him, settling into a new line of thought. He nodded, “you learn about why people think the way they do. Dad didn’t go to school for something cool like that. He became a lawyer.” That made me chuckle, glancing at Aaron who was feigning fake offense. “No, I didn’t Jack. I was a prosecutor which was actually pretty interesting,” Aaron interjected, defending his choice of study. I took the opportunity to tease him. “And you were so bad at it the FBI had to give you a job outside of a court room,” I retorted, smirking at him. Jack laughed at that, pointing as he did, finding that hilarious. Aaron turned his head to look at me, a surprised smile on his face, his eyebrows cocked. Jack was still pointing at his father, laughing like there was no tomorrow.

I continued, “and now you get to spend everyday being out done in psychology by a 24-year-old in front of your co-workers.” His face twisted into an evil grin, sending me a message. The message was simple. _If you keep teasing me like that, I’m going to punish you._ That made Jack laugh harder. I thought he was going to come out of his chair he was laughing so hard. That made me start laughing which made Aaron start laughing. Eventually we all calmed down, a tear coming out of my eye from how hard I had laughed. Our waitress came over, setting our food down in front of us and giving me a fresh cup of coffee. I took a roll of silverware, placing the napkin in my lap and starting on the food in front of me. Jack and Aaron were doing the same, both obviously hungry. I ate quicker than they did. _Old habits die hard._ They were only a third of the way done with their food when I finished eating. I leaned back in my chair, taking a sip if coffee and waiting patiently. Jack swallowed the food in his mouth, “you eat really fast.”

Aaron glanced at me, pointing his fork at his son and agreeing, “he’s right.” I scowled at Aaron, setting my mug down in front of me. “No. It’s just that you two eat slow,” I postulated, making Jack pause to think about it. Jack scowled back, “noooo. You eat fast. Why?” I stiffened momentarily, the answer a lot darker than Jack was probably thinking. “In high school I just had to eat fast because my dad wasn’t a great man,” I explained, trying to say it as gently as possible. “What do you mean he wasn’t a great man? You seem great so why isn’t he?” Jack asked, completely confused. My mind scattered. I bit my bottom lip, glancing over at Aaron in silent question of what to do or how to respond. Aaron was giving his son a stern look, “Jack, manners.” I slumped a little in my chair, feeling bad for something that wasn’t even a big deal. I just felt bad and so out of place. “He’s fine, Hotch,” I said quietly, not wanting to ruin Jack’s mood over a simple question that he should get to know the answer to.

Hotch looked at me skeptically, one for using his work name while we weren’t working, and two, for saying that Jack was ok for asking such a deeply personal question. “Reese,” he started, but I cut him off. “He’s 10. And he should get to know. Everyone else does, so why not him,” I said bluntly, taking Jack’s side in this whole predicament. Hotch scowled, but essentially ‘let me win.’ I turned back to Jack, swallowing down a feeling of anxiety. “When I was a kid, my dad used to do things like this with me. But he started drinking because he felt sad when my mother died. He loved her and she was gone. And because of all his negative feelings and his drinking he started hurting me. And sometimes he wouldn’t let me eat or sleep,” I explained, trying to keep my voice as steady as possible. I don’t know how well I sold it, but I didn’t really care. Jack looked at me, confused by that. “Is that why you decided to be an FBI agent?” Jack asked, trying to put more pieces of the puzzle together in his mind. I nodded, “something like that. It’s what makes me good at my job.”

Jack nodded, accepting that before going back to eating. He was done asking me questions for now. I let out a small breath of relief, happy that I could shift back into something less serious. I felt something retreat inside me, my mood effectively shifting into a darker place as thoughts and memories came back to me. I needed to take a moment to compose myself before I had a mental breakdown. “Excuse me,” I said quickly, pushing back and standing up. I rushed to the nearest men’s room, taking a stall and locking the door. I sunk to the floor, trying to steady my now forced breathing. I clutched at my chest, trying to find some feeling of security. I really wasn’t in the mood to have an anxiety attack in an IHOP bathroom because of a 10-year-old boy’s innocent curiosity. I didn’t fight the familiar numbness that spread through me, sinking into nothingness with ease. My brain was focusing itself on feeling anything but sadness, and because of that I didn’t have anything left to feel anything else. I just went numb. I sat on the floor for a few moments more before getting up and exiting.

I paused when I glanced over and saw myself in the mirror. My eyes were stark with nothingness. I suddenly felt tired. I wanted to go back to my apartment and just sleep for as long as I possibly could. I wanted to escape reality and fall into blackness and stay there. I didn’t want to think for a few hours. I pushed the door open and walked back to where Aaron and Jack sat, having some sort of conversation about something. I didn’t care enough to pay attention. I sat back down, picking up my coffee and taking a long draft. My gaze fell to the coffee in my mug, my eyes feeling heavy for no real reason. _Nice job, kid. You’ve managed to ruin the morning for literally everyone. Fucking awesome._ I sat there in silence while the other two ate and talked about soccer. Eventually the bill came, and I tried putting my card down, but my hand was promptly smacked away. “Aaron, I can pay for my portion of the meal,” I said, trying to switch our cards. Aaron glared, switching our cards again.

Jack interrupted us. “I’m going to the bathroom,” he informed us, walking away from the table. I acknowledged that and then went back to arguing about paying. “I can pay,” I told him, not giving up. Aaron shook his head, “I can pay for my boy’s meal.” I turned cherry fucking red, my eyes getting wide at his rebuttal. I stammered, unable to say anything else. He essentially melted my brain function. I just stared, wide eyed while he filled out the receipts. “Are you ok, baby?” Aaron asked, a smirk on his face as he shoved his receipt and card back into his wallet. My mouth opened to say something, but the words didn’t fall out. He reached over, his thumb stroking over my bottom lip before he closed my mouth. That made me blush even more. I turned away, unable to make eye contact. Jack came back, standing and waiting because we were clearly finished. Aaron and I stood, walking out of the restaurant behind Jack.

* * *

I stepped into my apartment, the space dark and cold. I dropped my bag, moving into my kitchen and pouring myself a drink. I carried it to the couch, flopping onto it and taking a swig of the amber liquid in my glass. I sighed, feeling empty. Hollow. My hairs stood on end because of how cold it was in my apartment. My head dropped back against the back of the couch, my hand holding my glass resting in my lap. I closed my eyes, taking in a few deep breaths, trying to maintain some form of thinking. Trying to grasp onto anything I could find. I thought about college and how much of a struggle that was. It was hard. Being all alone on a huge college campus, surrounded by equally bright minds at the age of 16 was hard. I laughed, thinking about how shocked all my professors were when they first met me and found out how old I was.

The silence of the room was broken by my phone ringing. I didn’t look at the caller ID when I answered, “Benson.” Hotch’s voice came through the other side of the line. “We have a case. An ongoing child abduction. Get here as fast as possible.”

“I’ll be there in 25. Bye.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	29. Connection Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reese copes with his feelings and connects with an unsub.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one will be broken down into two parts. The second part will most likely be darker and heavier than this part. Hope you guys enjoy and do not be scared to leave feedback!! It helps me understand what I need to improve on/change. AND THANK YOU FOR 1K HITS!! IT'S AWESOME TO SEE SO MANY PEOPLE READING WHAT I'M WRITING. 
> 
> TW: suicidal thoughts, blood, self-harm, etc. PLEASE USE DISCRETION!

“Loneliness is the poverty of self; solitude is the richness of self.”  
-May Sarton

* * *

I walked into the conference room briskly, taking a seat at the table and opening the file. I was the last one to arrive, but I wasn’t really late. They were just starting the briefing. “Today, my fine friends, we have an ongoing child abduction in Seattle, Washington,” Garcia started, flicking her remote towards the screen, “this is 11-year-old Tommy Wilcox. He is 4th in a string of child abductions over the last year.” I studied the kid on the screen. He was pale with light brown hair and hazel eyes. Freckles peppered his face and he had slightly crooked teeth. “He was last seen getting off the bus at the corner of his block. He was wearing blue jeans and Seattle Seahawks t-shirt with black converse. Mom says that he was supposed to come straight home because he had a batting lesson for baseball. Kid is an up and coming baseball player.” Hotch stood, not wanting to waste time, “wheels up in 20.”

I got up, slinging my go-bag over my shoulder and walking out of the room. I slipped into the elevator behind another agent who was most likely from a different floor. I nodded, hitting the button for the bottom floor. I waited patiently, rocking on the balls of my feet. Shifting up and down restlessly. I had a bad feeling about this case, and it hadn’t even started yet. Abductions, especially child abductions, always made me terribly nervous. The entire team knew the odds. I hoped that Tommy could hold out. I stepped out of the elevator when it opened, walking through the lobby and out to the garage to a black SUV. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, texting Morgan, Reid, and Prentiss that I was waiting for them. After about 10 minutes they arrived, Derek taking the passenger seat for once. I put the car into drive, keeping my eyes in front of me, silent as the others began talking about something that wasn’t related to our jobs.

We got to the tarmac fairly quickly. I put the car in park and turned off the engine, stepping out and around to the trunk to retrieve my bag. I didn’t talk to my coworkers as I strode away, climbing the short flight of stairs to enter the cabin of the jet. Morgan was right on my tail, concerned because I hadn’t said anything in the past half hour. “Kid.” I kept walking, opening one of the storage compartments and slinging my bag inside. “KID,” Morgan called louder, gaining my attention. I looked at him, exhausted and not in the mood for his questions. “What?” I asked, my words clipped with my apparent frustration. His head snapped back, unprepared for my sudden agitation. “What’s up with you? Are you ok? You haven’t said a word this entire time, which isn’t like you,” he pointed out, moving to let Prentiss and Reid around him. I rolled my eyes, setting my file on one of the tables and slipping into a window seat.

Reid slipped in next to me, trapping me in this conversation. I knew that more questions would ensue. I opened my mouth to explain but a sudden observation from Reid cut me off. Reid pointed at my neck; his face tight with confusion. “What’s with all the band-aids? And what’s that mark right there?” Reid asked, a tinge of worry in his voice. My eyes grew wide and a slight blush bloomed across my face. I had forgotten about all the marks and band-aids used to cover the rest of the marks. “Uh… those. Well…” I stammered, trying to find a lie but coming up empty. Derek abandoned his original line of question as he slipped into his seat behind Emily. The two of them smiling knowingly. “There is no way he didn’t get laid last night. You can tell from his walk too,” Emily offered, Derek nodding slightly in agreement. I dropped my face into my hands, wanting a hole to appear and swallow me up. “That confirms it,” Rossi said, stepping into the cool cabin and walking past us to put his bag into the compartment opposite us. I looked up, not expecting the others so quickly. Hotch was impassive as he glanced at me, not giving anything away.

“He also has a bracelet on his wrist that he hasn’t worn before. I noticed it when he was driving. Our boy is in a relationship with someone,” Derek added, his grin getting wider as he looked to me for answers. My face got redder, involuntarily admitting that he was right. “I am not in a relationship. It was a simple hook-up. And this,” I said, holding up my wrist and dropping it back in my lap, “is from an old college friend. Nothing more.” JJ and Emily scoffed. “Yeah right,” JJ said, rolling her eyes. JJ walked to front of the jet, telling the pilots we were ready for take-off. I buckled my seat belt, dodging the accusations. “Just tell us who he is, kid.”

“It isn’t anyone. I picked him up at a bar and went home and fucked him. That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less,” I stated in finality. I was trying desperately to close the subject. I unfortunately chose the wrong time to lie because Garcia interjected, making me jump. I hadn’t been ready for her to appear so suddenly. “You did nothing of the sort. No activity on your cards after our family outing last night,” she informed the team, making me sigh. “Garcia…” I warned, my voice cold as ice. _We are not doing this anymore. No._ Reid threw out his two cents, “if it was a simple hook-up, you wouldn’t have let him leave marks. You tend to stray away from lasting intimate connections so any sort of marking means this person means more to you than a hook-up would. Plus, your blushing really gave you away.” I turned my head, glaring daggers into Reid. “There’s a lot to hate about you, you know that?” Reid swallowed, fidgeting with his hands at my coldness. I felt the plane start to move, gaining speed as we took off.

The plane glided into the air smoothly, my head hitting the back of my seat as we took off. I closed my eyes, trying to regain focus and composure. I let out a sigh, already feeling tired. That wasn’t a good sign for what was to come. It was going to be a while until I got to sleep again. Until we found the kid and the unsub. I opened my eyes, waiting for the team theorizing and base information brief to start. “No need to be so frustrated kid. We are just curious,” Derek said. I gave him an unimpressed look, urging him to drop the subject and leave me alone. “And I enjoy my privacy. You don’t see me accosting you every time you take a woman home, do you? No. Because I respect your privacy. I would love it if you would show me the same respect,” I snapped back, my inflection steady as I spoke. That seemed to do it. Reid looked from me to Derek, a stunned look on his face. Derek recoiled but accepted that, leaning back in his seat and returning to his file. The pilot came over the intercom, giving us the go ahead to walk around the cabin.

Hotch cleared his throat, “can we focus, please? Garcia, what do you have for us?” Garcia perked up, starting to rattle on about the case. I shouldn’t have, but I tuned her and the rest of the team out. I focused on the file in my lap, ignoring the conversation taking place around me. My mind went to other thoughts.

  
_I was back in that bunker. The cold concrete uncomfortable against my shins, my entire body stiff and aching. My eyelids felt heavy, my body exhausted from being constantly raped and violated. I didn’t know how long I could last. My mask was cracking; pieces falling from it and shattering. I had cuts all up my thighs from where the man had cut into me, trying to stake some sort of claim. It stung. They were deeper than mine had ever been. Angry. Rushed. I kept my eyes at the floor, never looking up. Never breaking position. I didn’t want to find out what happened if I moved and the man found out. It couldn’t be good. I didn’t think he would kill me, but I still wasn’t eager to know what he had in store. **How many hours have I been staring at this same spot in the concrete? How long until I’m found or until my team gives up? What’s going to happen to me? How long can I do this without breaking down completely?**_

_My eyes were red from how much I had cried the night before. At least I assumed it was night. I couldn’t tell. There weren’t any windows in the bunker or basement or wherever the hell I was. I just wanted to be out of here. Wherever here was. My breathing was even, my breaths somewhat shallow. The leather band around my neck was rubbing my skin, irritating it from all the sweat and grime that had rubbed against it and my skin. I hated the so called “collar” the most. It was a constant reminder that I could feel at all times. Constantly reminding me where I was and why I was there. **Maybe I should just let him kill me. Then maybe I can finally rest. Life is too much for me. It always has been. Would the team grieve my loss? I’ve only been in the BAU for a year. They probably would, but not for the right reasons.**_

**_Would Aaron grieve? Would he tell the team about us and how he had gotten close to me? I doubt it. That could ruin his career. And either way, it’s just sex. I was probably just a fuck toy to him. Nothing more. He wouldn’t be hung up on me too long. Then maybe I will. I’ll let that man kill me and end all of this. I don’t think I can do it anymore. I don’t think I can hold on. I think it’s time to let go._ **

Emily was snapping her fingers in front of my face, the rest of the team staring at me in silence. I blinked, trying to pull myself back into the here and now and figure out what I had missed. “You ok? You spaced out for a second there,” Emily told me, her fingers moving back into her lap. I nodded, still blinking fiercely. “Yeah… yeah I’m all good. Just lost in thought.” I looked up, Hotch giving me a skeptical look. He knew it was more than that, but he wasn’t going to say anything in front of the rest of the team. I looked away sheepishly, focusing on anything but Hotch’s facial expression. “JJ, Prentiss, and I will set up with the family. Establish rapport and get anything additional we can. Rossi and Reid, I want you to brief the local PD and work victimology. Morgan and Benson will visit the other families and gather information from the other 3 disappearances.” I let out a small breath I didn’t know I was holding. I was happy that Hotch didn’t pair me with him. I nodded my understanding, looking at the other reports from the other families.

* * *

I toyed with the day collar on my wrist as Derek drove, my eyes focused on my wrist. My brain was lost in other thoughts when Derek interrupted them. “Talk to me, kid. Something is clearly bothering you.” I didn’t want to tell Derek about the meal I shared with Hotch and his son for obvious reasons. But that was just a small piece of the puzzle. I hated working abduction cases, especially now. For once I understood. I got it. It was hard to keep my distance from all the feelings in cases like this now. I didn’t know if I could keep things strictly professional. I stayed quiet, not really knowing what to say or how to engage in this conversation. “C’mon, kid. I know you are thinking something. What’s on your mind?” Derek asked again, his eyes not meeting mine as I looked up at him. I kept playing with the leather band around my wrist, feeling anxious and on edge. I finally open my mouth, telling him what came to mind first. “I just don’t know if I should be in the BAU. I don’t know if I can keep doing this. I know what being kidnapped is like and now I just can’t help getting emotional. What happens if my emotions get in the way and then someone dies because of me? How would I live with that?” I said in a rush.

Derek waved one of his hands, indicating I needed to calm down. “Slow down, slow down. Pump your brakes.” My head fell into my hands, my mind overwhelmed with scenarios of how bad this could go simply from me being there. I wanted to work but at the same time I didn’t. I just couldn’t wrap my head around anything. I felt like a total train wreck. Anything I felt was negative. That, or I simply couldn’t feel anything. I hated everything about this. “No one is going die because of you,” Derek said. I scoffed, “what if they do? I shouldn’t even be in the BAU. I wasn’t eligible when I applied and yet here I am. I’m not like the rest of you. I’m an antisocial idiot on the verge of mental fucking breakdown. Hell, I’m easily replaceable. The most replaceable.” Derek glanced over at me, a look of concern and slight anger on his face. I wasn’t expecting any sort of anger. Actually, I wasn’t expecting much of anything.

“No one is going to replace you. You know that. We all want you here and think you are a great profiler. You’re actually really impressive. You’re the only one that keeps up with Reid half the time,” Derek countered, making me laugh. It was a tense laugh. I felt off. Everything was just wrong. Off balance. Different. And I really didn’t know why. I couldn’t place why I felt like this or how long I had. I just looked away, staring out my window and watching the houses slide by. We were almost at the first family’s house and I really didn’t know if I was going to be much help. We pulled into the driveway of a red brick house; the curtains drawn so you couldn’t see inside. I took a deep inhalation, trying to find some ounce of strength to keep myself going. I opened my door, stepping out into the cool November air. I was wearing some black jeans and a plaid flannel. I didn’t like wearing dress clothes in the field and it was cold outside. Not too bad, though.

I walked behind Morgan, letting him take point. A middle age man answered the door. He was Morgan’s height and build. Broad and muscular. He was pale with dark brown hair and pale green eyes. “Mr. Falkner, we’re agents Morgan and Benson with the FBI. We spoke on the phone about talking to you about the day your son went missing,” Morgan explained, taking the lead. I was simply going to pay attention to behavior and look around. Occasionally throw something in if I felt the need to. I doubt I would, though. Falkner nodded, stepping back to let us in, “come in.” We stepped inside, looking around and taking note of the living space. I knew that they also had an 8-year-old daughter named Katie. That was a key part in the victimology. The family size and dynamic. It was important in understanding the unsub’s fantasy and what he was trying to do. It determined the endgame. We followed the man into the living room, Morgan sitting on the couch when offered while I chose to stand.

“Is it alright if I speak to your daughter?” I asked calmly, waiting expectantly for an answer. Mrs. Falkner looked up at me from where she was sitting in a chair. “Why do you need to do that?” she asked, confused and near hysterical. You could tell she was barely keeping it together. I wondered whether she could see that I was barely keeping it together too. I didn’t really know. “It’s just standard operating procedure. We need to know as much as possible and Katie’s knowledge is a part of that. One of you can sit in on the interview if you wish,” I explained, trying to help them as much as possible. I wanted to catch the bastard that took their son away from them. Plain and simple. But I would need cooperation to do so. “Yeah, yeah of course. I’ll go get her.” I waited patiently while Morgan started asking questions to Mrs. Falkner about the day her son went missing. He had never turned up dead which was what is the most confusing. Most children die within the first twenty-four hours. That meant that there might be a small chance the child was still alive.

Mr. Falkner came back with his daughter, the young girl hiding behind her father’s legs. “Can I speak to her in a separate room. Again, one of you can be there if you wish.” The father looked to his wife and she simply nodded. He led us out to the dining room. Katie took a seat at the table and paused, deciding whether to stay or leave. I watched him, waiting for him to make his decision. He finally decided to leave, walking back to living room to talk to Morgan and comfort his wife. I sat down in the chair next to Katie’s, pulling it out more so that I could sit more sprawled out. I looked at the young girl warmly, not wanting to scare her. “Hi Katie. My name’s Reese. I’m here to try and find your brother and the other boys that have gone missing. I need to ask you somethings about your brother. Can you do that for me?” I asked gently. She nodded quietly, still not saying a word.

“Awesome. That’s really good. Can you tell me where you were the day your brother went missing?”

Her voice was quiet. I almost missed what she said. “I was home. Playing in my room after school because I didn’t have any homework.” I nodded, deciding to use easier small talk to build rapport and calm the girl down a little bit. She seemed shaken up. “What’s your favorite subject? I used to enjoy science as a kid.” She thought about it for a few seconds before giving me a shy smile. “Reading. I like reading stories.”

I smiled back at her, knowing that this would really be the way to get her to answer my questions. “What kind of stories do you like to read?” She thought about that for another moment, clearly putting in more effort to give me an answer. “I like reading stories about animals. I like animals. Ethan used to read to me…” she added, her voice trailing off. My smile thinned a bit. She was already ready to talk about her brother. “Katie, was there ever someone specific who used to try and talk to Ethan? Maybe a neighbor? Mail man? Anyone you can think of that always talked to Ethan.”

Katie’s face scrunched as she focused on my question. She was racking her brain for any name she could think of. “Mr. Hertz down the street. Ethan used to help him with stuff around his house. He said that Mr. Hertz was teaching him stuff.” I nodded, taking out a small journal and writing down a name. “Anyone else?” She went back to thinking while I wrote the name down. She finally shook her head, coming up empty. I closed the notebook and put it back in my pocket. Then I noticed Katie sniffling. She was starting to cry. “Hey. Katie, I promise I’m going to find the man that took your brother. I promise. Come here,” I said, kneeling in front of the little girl and pulling her into an embrace. She started crying into my shoulder, gripping the material of my shirt as tight as she could. I put one hand on the back of her head, the other rubbing up and down her back trying to soothe her. “I miss my brother,” she cried into my shoulder. “I know, I know. I’m going to do my best to find him. I won’t sleep until I do, kiddo.”

I saw her mother enter the threshold of the door, wrapping her arms around herself at the sight of me comforting her daughter. I just held the child until she pulled back, wiping her eyes. “We are done with the questions,” I told her, taking out my wallet to pull a business card from it, “but this is my card. If you ever want to talk to me, you can call this number and I’ll pick up. Whatever you want to talk about.” She took it from my fingers tentatively, as though I was going to pull it back quickly and take it away from her. She sniffled, “really?” I nodded, smiling up at her and tucking a strand of hair back behind her ear, “really.” She smiled, hugging me and then letting go to walk out of the dining room. I stood to let her do so, watching the small child exit the room. _Brave kid._

* * *

“Can you narrow that down?” Reid asked, his words and his brain going a million miles a minute. We had a major break in the case and were narrowing down a suspect list. “Now our grand total is… two. I have a Marcus Poole, 34. Works at a cable company and worked with all our families. And we have a Herman Granger, 37. Lives in the comfort area and does paper routes in all the neighborhoods our victims live in.”

“Addresses?” Hotch asked, getting ready to pursue the two men. “Already sent to you. And Poole’s family owns a warehouse. I sent the address for it as well,” Garcia said, her words rapid fire, “OH! It looks like Granger has been out of town for a week taking care of his mother in Oregon. Poole is your man.” Hotch turned to us, starting to split us up. “Rossi, Prentiss, and JJ will take Poole’s house. The rest of you are with me at the warehouse. Let’s go.”

**

  
I stepped out of the SUV quickly, strapping on my vest with ease. I already had my wire in. Two other police cars pulled up with us, cops stepping out with their own vests on. Morgan had a map and spread it over the hood of our SUV, gathering everyone and letting Hotch make the game plan. “Morgan take a them around the back and clear from the back. Benson and I will take the chief and work through the front. Let’s go.” I stepped towards the building, drawing my gun as I walked forwards. I stacked by the smaller entrance door, my hand on the knob waiting for Hotch’s go. He nodded. I opened the door and stepped inside quickly, clearing both sides and announcing it quietly. The best plan here was to stay quiet. I walked towards a hallway, beckoning Hotch to follow. We cleared the hall, walking down until we got to a point where it went in two different directions. The chief and Hotch went down one side while I went down the other.

I opened the first door, stepping in and clearing it quickly. I backed up, opening another door to find a child inside, curled up in the corner. I pulled my mic up to talk to the rest of my team. “I have one. My hallway, second door on the left side.” I let go, moving to check on the boy. The kid was asleep with a steady pulse. He didn’t wake up when I touched him. I shook him slightly, clamping a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet. “Hey. Are you Ethan Falkner?” The kid nodded, eyes wide and scared. I jerked my head, helping the kid up and giving him to the police chief to be led out of the building. I continued on, clearing the rooms. Hotch then joined me, stacking on the other side of the hall and clearing the right side.

I opened up a door, stepping in and keeping my weapon aimed at the man who stood inside. He had a kid in front of him, using him as a shield. “Marcus Poole… FBI. Drop the gun and let the kid go,” I ordered firmly. Marcus just smirked. He didn’t care about making it out of this place alive. He was on a mission of some sort and we were simply getting in the way. “Put the gun down, now,” I ordered again, taking a small step forward. “Or what? You take another step the kid dies. Then you have nothing,” Marcus sneered, positioning the barrel at the kid’s head. I knew he would do it too. “Alright. What do you want? What’s the point in all this Marcus?” I asked, trying to build rapport so that I could get the kid away from him. I needed to empathize, or the boy was dead.

“This kid will be safer and better off with me than with his parents. They took what they had for granted. But not me. Not me,” Marcus said, rage flowing out of his tone. He was pissed. His own family had been torn apart. It triggered him when families didn’t get along because all he wanted was a family. “I get that,” I said, nodding in agreement. “HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY UNDERSTAND1?” Marcus yelled back at me. I lowered my gun, “I’m going to put this away. I just want to talk. That’s it.” I put my gun back in my holster, putting my hands in the air and taking one small step forward. “I know what it’s like to want a family. My father abused me when my mother died and blamed it all on me. I get the rage. The anger. The heartbreak. You just want to care for these boys like your father never did. Admirable cause, in my opinion.”

Marcus was starting to break down a little. He was hesitant to let the kid go but I could tell he wanted to. “TAKE THAT OFF!” Marcus ordered loudly, pointing at my vest. I nodded, my fingers moving to the straps and taking the blue vest off. I dropped it next to me, putting my hands back in the air where they were visible. I heard Hotch behind me, taking a position in the doorway. “Reese…” Hotch warned, trying to get me to back off. I wasn’t having it. _I’m getting this kid out, even if I die in the process._ Marcus was starting to rant, “they never took care of me. EVER! They always said they had my back and they never did. These boys need me. They need someone who will protect them. I saved them. I saved all of them. I never hurt them.” I nodded, swallowing a small feeling of guilt. I knew that I had a clean shot at pulling this off. I angled myself where there was an opening. The kid wouldn’t get hurt if I drew my gun and fired.

But I could de-escalate this. I knew I could. “I get that. You know a few months back I was kidnapped. My team, who I consider to be family, found me after a week. And not one of them called or stopped by to check-up on me except my boss. I get how you feel. Betrayed. Angry. Terrified. I get it. Because they all lie. Every last one of them. But that kid has a chance to change his family. So, let him go. If you care you wouldn’t be endangering his life like this.” Marcus hesitated. Then I saw something shift in his behavior. A realization was made. It was sudden. He pointed his gun up. I side stepped, drew, and fired, hitting him in the neck. I felt a surge of pain in my arm, knocking me to my feet. The kid was on the ground, crying and confused. Hotch rushed to the boy’s side, picking him up and carrying him out. I could hear Hotch calling for a medic.

I got up on shaky legs, pain radiating through my entire left arm. I stumbled over to where Marcus lay dead on the floor, collapsing next to him. His eyes were still open. I used my right hand to cover his eyes and close them. Hotch came back in with Morgan, rushing over to me to make sure I was alright. “Yeah I’m fine. Just direct me to nearest ambulance.”

***To be continued***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :) Feel free to leave comments.


	30. Flashback II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hotch has a flashback.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is essentially Hotch's perspective of Reese's interview. Anyways, thanks for sticking with me so far. I have no plans to stop until I literally can't go on. Also, I know that the timeline is fucked up. I really don't care. 
> 
> Happy reading, kind stranger :)

“History is not a burden on the memory but an illumination of the soul.”  
-John Dalberg-Acton

* * *

_***one year earlier*** _

**Hotch’s POV**

  
_I heard a faint knock on the door. “Come in,” I said, not looking up from my stack of paperwork. I heard faint footsteps as someone stepped into the office. I looked up from my paperwork, staring at the young man in front of me. He was shorter than me. 5’10 to 5’11 if I had to guess. In between skinny and broad. His skin was tan. He had deep brown hair and the prettiest gray eyes. I saw nervousness in them. The kid was scared. He spoke up after a moment, his voice laced with forced calm. “Agent Hotchner, sir? I’m Agent Reese Benson from the New York office. You called me about an interview,” he explained, his gaze shooting from me to his hands. He was fidgeting, obviously on edge about this entire interview. I nodded, standing from my chair to shake his hand. “Yes, I did,” I said, motioning to the chair in front of my desk, “Please. Sit down.”_

_Benson shook my hand, his grip strong but not as much as mine. Probably because he was nervous and somewhat timid. **I read the kid’s resume and past history. I just have to find it. I remember that he grew up in an isolated environment, so it makes sense that he is more reserved.** I sat back down at my desk, scooting forward in my chair and sifting through resumes to find his. I could tell the kid was looking around the room. Profiling me. I was used to it from other team members, not from people who I was interviewing. I found his resume, opening it and starting to read some of the information inside for a quick refresher. I could feel the stress and tension coming off the young man. Jesus, I could practically touch it. The room was silent. Comfortable silence for Hotch. Not so much for Benson, who was fidgeting with something in his pocket. I kept reading his history, developing some talking points along the way._

_My attention was drawn away from the file when Reese cleared his throat, indicating he wanted to speak. “Um… sir, may I ask you a question?” he asked nervously. I looked up, meeting his eyes with an impassive look on my face. When he didn’t speak, I simply said, “yes?” trying to prompt him into speaking. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip before he spoke again. **Oh, poor boy. He’s like a smaller version of Reid when Reid first got here. He has problems with authority figures and gets nervous around dominant personalities. Christ. He’s practically squirming from me just looking at him.** “Why did you agree to an interview with me? I don’t meet the field requirements. I don’t stand out with my degree. I don’t stand out among other agents, although I do try. So…”he paused for a moment, grappling with what he wanted to say next, “I guess I don’t quite understand why I am here, sir.”_

_A part of me smiled internally. Haley and I had “broken up” in college to see if we were really compatible with one another. By that time, I had known that I was attracted to men and had dabbled here and there. This boy was exactly my type. Timid, shy, reserved, introverted. A submissive personality. He probably came out of his shell when he got more comfortable and used to the people around him, but he still had a barrier between his personal life and those around him. My guess was that the kid didn’t have much of a personal life. I looked back over his education and career. He had gotten a BA in forensic psychology from Vanderbilt on scholarship. He had managed to get into college at 16, too. Had an IQ of 182. He had taken the profiling classes the second he was granted access into the field and then went and worked in the New York office. It was impressive for a 24-year-old with no support system. He probably had self-esteem issues. And no doubt a streak of defiance and stubbornness. It was easy to read off of him. And that’s what I liked about his type of people. Once you broke down their initial defiance and proved you had them, they were like putty in your hands._

_Reese swallowed, his gaze flicking from me to his lap. I could tell he thought he had fucked up, so I decided to take a little of the edge off by asking basic questions. “How old were you when you graduated high school?” He scrambled to answer my question, his words coming out in a rush, “16, sir. I got to leave my home early and went to Vanderbilt on scholarship to learn forensic psychology, sir.” I continued, “and you have an IQ of?”_

_“182, sir. Although it doesn’t make me smarter or better. It simply means I can take in information and process it faster, sir.”_

_I pulled out another piece of paper from the file. It was his field assessments and career achievements. His qualifications for the job. I was happy to find that his academics were near perfect, and while the field assessments were more average, academics and intelligence was what mattered in this field. I knew that the young man in front of me would be eager to learn as much as possible. In both his professional and his personal life, he was pliable. Moldable. “You scored near perfect on every academic assessment in the academy. Your field scores were more in the average category, but still impressive.” He didn’t say anything. **Smart boy. He understands his place here.** “You only have two years field experience and yet your case solving rate is impressive. Above the average of almost all the newer agents in the New York field office. And you applied for this position anyways,” I went on, waiting for him to speak. I was hoping he wouldn’t. Arrogance was killer. He nodded, acknowledging what I had said but not saying anything more._

_I had to bite back a smirk. I wanted to drag this boy over my desk and fuck him like there was no tomorrow. God, I wanted to take him back home and restrain him and gag him and fuck him into my mattress. All while telling him how perfect he looked taking my cock inch by inch inside of him. “You aren’t one for arrogance, are you Agent Benson?” I asked pointedly, waiting for a response. He shook his head fiercely, a look of distaste on his face at the thought. “No sir. It gets in the way of the job.” That please me immensely. Arrogant agents weren’t needed in my team, let alone the Bureau as a whole. I decided to conclude the meeting and talk with the rest of my team members. I could tell that this kid would probably be the next addition. At least Strauss let me have my choice of who joined the BAU rather than giving us someone random. “Well, Benson, I think you have the potential to be a great profiler and a valuable asset to my team. I will have to discuss further with my team, but I will keep you informed."_  
_I saw his eyes light up. That broke my mask, a small smile on my lips as he stood to shake my hand again. I rose with him this time, watching as he walked to the door. I sat back down as he exited, returning to my budgeting papers and signing one. “And sir…” he said from his position in the doorway. I looked up to see what he had to say. “Thank you.” He then took his leave. I watched him stride down the stairs and through the bullpen to the elevator. I looked back at my paperwork, trying to focus. I wanted him. Both in a professional manner on my team and in a personal manner. I wanted to own that boy mind, body, and soul._

* * *

_I rose from my desk chair, stretching slightly before picking up Reese Benson’s file and walking towards Dave’s office. I would have to discuss with him. I knocked on his door before entering, taking a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk. I didn’t bother closing the door. I didn’t care who heard this conversation. I knew that this kid would end up on our team at some point. Dave looked up from a consult, silently asking me why I was there. I placed the file in front of him. “Possible new team member.”_

_Dave put down his pen, picking up the file and opening it to skim over the contents. Dave paused for a moment, a skeptical look overtaking his features. “He’s only 24. He isn’t technically eligible for this job. Why him?” he asked, trying to look at this from my point of view. I leaned back in my chair. “He’s like Reid, with field skills and without the eidetic memory. While he doesn’t have as many college degrees, the kid is smart. And I doubt that he didn’t pursue a masters because he didn’t want to. He would be an asset to this team.” Dave got up and closed the door. He sat back down, his leg crossing over his thigh as he leaned back in his leather desk chair. “You like more than that about this kid, don’t you?” Dave asked, his lips twisting into a knowing smile. I simply smiled back, not saying yes but not denying it either._

_“Again, I think he would be an asset. I’m not saying that because I’m intrigued by him. It wasn’t biased. And if you disagree then we will find another candidate that suits the teams needs,” I told him, acting as though this was a compromise. For all I knew, the kid was straight and uninterested. I doubted that though. At bare minimum he was single. He probably hadn’t had many relationships, let alone sexual ones. Dave just chuckled, finding my determination to sell this to him amusing. “I think he would be a smart move professionally. Especially if he’s like Reid. And he is excelling. It looks like another department wants him and is going to offer him promotion and reassignment next week,” Dave told me, leaning forward to hand me a piece of paper. It had the information for a promotion and transfer. They wanted the kid in negotiation. “I think we should take him. He would be able to keep up here,” I stated, knowing that if negotiation wanted him it was because he was already good at a portion of this job._

_“He’s taken the classes. He knows behavior. That’s probably why his case solve rate is so high. He’s analyzing patterns in behavior and using that to help his office catch an unsub,” Rossi pointed out. I nodded my agreement. “So, it’s settled then? Reese Benson will be our newest addition?” I asked, wanting to make sure we were on the same page before starting all the paperwork that went along with it. Rossi nodded, “settled. You’ll have to tell the team, though.” I nodded, standing and opening the door to get back to my office and start the paperwork that made Reese Benson a new addition to the BAU. I smiled to myself as I sat down at my desk, knowing that if I ever could, I would make a move on that boy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)


	31. Connection Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of the last chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of abuse, rape, self-harm, etc. PLEASE USE DISCRETION. 
> 
> Happy reading. Hope you guys enjoy.

“Forgiveness is not always easy. At times, it feels more painful than the wound we suffered, to forgive the one that inflicted it. And yet, there is no peace without forgiveness.”  
-Marianne Williamson

* * *

I was sitting on the back of an ambulance, letting a paramedic wrap my arm in a bandage. The bullet had grazed my arm. “Fuck,” I muttered as the bandage tightened around my arm. “Sorry,” the paramedic said, still wrapping it around me. He taped it so that it wouldn’t come undone and then stood, packing his things into his bag. “Good to go, man.” I stood up, stretching my legs and examining my arm. “Thanks.” Hotch appeared from somewhere, making me jump. He glared at me, clearly upset. I didn’t really get why. Injury was part of our job and if anything, I was lucky. The unsub had basically missed. “Sit at the single seats on the jet. I need to talk to you,” he ordered sternly before walking away. I just stood there. A wave of emotional pain washed over me. He was pissed at me and all my brain could do was latch onto the worst scenarios. Then I felt nothing. Everything simply went blank.

I felt awkward. Out of place. I didn’t have anything left to do besides wait to drive to the tarmac. We had been cleared to fly home early. I felt a hand on my back and glanced over. Rossi was standing next to me, his eyes locking onto what I was looking at. Hotch. I was looking at Hotch talking to the chief. “So. You and Aaron, huh?” he asked, turning his head to me. “Yeah,” I replied, my inflection emotionless, “how’d you know?” Rossi scoffed, knowing something that I didn’t. “I could tell. It wasn’t hard to figure out. Sometimes you look at him differently. He jokes around more with you. I pieced it together after dinner on your birthday.” I just nodded, accepting that, “does anyone else know?”

“If they do, they haven’t told me.” I nodded again, my eyes moving to look at my feet and the asphalt. I felt tired. So tired. I needed to shower and to go to sleep. That would have to wait until I was home in D.C. Rossi pointed to my wrist, “he get you that?” My lips twisted into a small smile. “Yeah. Birthday gift.” Rossi smiled, understanding what it was for. He got it. Well, everyone got it, just not the extent of it. I bit the inside of my cheek, ready to just get all this shit over with. The case was over. And at this point if Hotch asked me to step down I would. I would just transfer to another division. I would get my choice of posts. Hell, maybe I would drop the FBI all together and go back to school to get my masters or another BA and get a civilian job. For once I felt like I had taken on too much. That I had jumped into this job too quickly. I didn’t know if I could do it anymore. The BAU had a high burn out rate. The team would understand if I left.

**

  
I stepped onto the jet, putting my bag away and collapsing into a singular seat away from the rest of the team. I buckled the seat belt in my lap and then let my head hit the back of my seat. I closed my eyes, trying to gather what little I had left. I took in a deep breath, exhaling slowly. I registered Hotch sitting down across from me, settling into his seat. I didn’t open my eyes. I simply waited for him to speak to me. We took off and after a few minutes we were clear to move around the cabin. I unbuckled my seat belt, finally opening my eyes and addressing the older man across from me. Hotch was wearing his impassivity like a shield. I knew there was more bothering him, but I didn’t read into it. It wouldn’t do any good. I didn’t have the strength to put effort into any of it. I kept my eyes on Hotch, waiting for him to speak first. After a few moments he did, his eyes sharp on my face.

“Benson, you’re aware that you could be fired over that stunt, correct?” Hotch asked, a hardness in his voice that I hadn’t heard before. I nodded. He cocked his eyebrows, silently asking, no demanding, for a verbal answer. “Yes sir, I understand,” I replied quietly. I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to fight with my dominant or my boss. I just wanted to go home and shower and then have a drink. I wanted to cut. I didn’t want to feel nothingness anymore. I wanted to feel something. “What were you thinking? Taking off your vest in the line of fire? It’s suicidal, Reese,” Hotch said incredulously. I just shrugged, not agreeing but not disagreeing either. “You nearly got shot. You’re lucky the bullet grazed you! If you do something like that again I will be forced to pull you out of the field or off the team entirely. Do I make myself clear?” he asked, his eyes sharp on my face making me feel small. “Yes sir.” Hotch pursed his lips, looking at the team in front of him. I had faced away from them.

He leaned over the table, lowering his voice so that only I could hear him, “I don’t think you understand how much I want to take you over my knee right here, right now. Just know you are in trouble when we get back home.” I looked up at him, a small plea in my eyes. His face was stern. He was serious. There was no way I was getting out of it, either. “Yes sir,” I mumbled, looking back down at my lap. A feeling of nervousness settled in my gut. I started toying with the collar on my wrist, my teeth sinking into the side of cheek. I pulled my phone and earbuds out of my pocket, popping them in and playing some music. I decided to listen to the Arctic Monkeys (supreme music taste for the win, baby). The song “R U Mine?” played in my ears. I went back to toying with the collar, trying to settle down during the long, long flight back to Quantico. Hotch was still across from me, some files open. His hand was pressing down on the paper as he wrote what I assumed was a report.

I just looked at him, my eyes darting away when he looked up at me. My tongue darted out, wetting my lower lip as I focused on anything but the man in front of me. Finally, he put his pen down and leaned over the table again, “do you need something, baby? Or is your mind wondering?” I looked up at him through my lashes, swallowing. I didn’t answer; I just looked at him. He got closer. “I asked you a question, brat. I expect an answer.” My gaze went from his face to my wrist and back to his face. “N-no. I’m f-fine,” I stuttered, my eyes flicking down to my fingers playing with the leather band. “Are you nervous?” he asked, his eyes raking over me. I nodded shyly, “y-yes.” He made a noise of approval. “Good. You should be.” That made me more nervous. It also scared me to an extent. I didn’t know whether it was something to worry about or not. I would find out when I got back home.

* * *

Aaron and I rode silently in the elevator up to his apartment. We didn’t have to worry about Jack because he was over at Jessica’s and it was too late to go over and get him. I followed him out dutifully when the elevator opened on his floor. He opened his door and gestured me inside first. I walked inside, waiting out of the way for his instructions. He took my bag from my hand, dropping it next to me on the floor. “Gun first,” he said, wanting me to secure my weapon in his gun safe. I took my holster off, moving next to him and putting my gun inside. I moved away, my eyes on the floor as I waited for him obediently. I was still toying with the leather band, trying to calm myself down. Aaron came up behind me, his breath hot on my neck making me swallow. “I want you to go to the bedroom and strip and then kneel next to the bed and wait. Go now.” I complied quickly, striding into the bedroom and taking off my clothes, folding them and setting them on the chair in the corner of the room. I walked back over the bed, kneeling by the foot of it.

I heard Aaron approaching but I didn’t look up. I kept my eyes glued to the floor. He hung up his jacket and stared at me for a moment. Just looking at me kneeling on the floor. He then started moving around the room, gathering things and placing them on the bedside table to use later.

“Safe words?”

“Green: all good. Yellow: slow down, pause. Red: stop immediately. Copland: stop immediately.” I swallowed, knowing this was going to be painful or emotionally stressful. “Stand up and turn so you’re facing away from me. Hands in the small of your back.” I got up, following instructions quickly. He took my hands, looping what I could only assume was his tie around my wrists. I heard the jingle of his belt being unbuckled and the hiss of the leather sliding free from his pants. I shivered, trying to push past the rush of distance memories. The memories were distant but the emotions within them were still fresh. And that was what hurt the most about them. That I could never let them go. That they were chained to me and would haunt me until the day I died. “Come here.” I turned, stepping next to Aaron’s knees and waiting for another command. He didn’t say anything; he took my wrist in his hand, pulling me roughly over his knees. I winced as my arm brushed his abdomen, my wound screaming at me.

“I see that and think about how you nearly died. How he could have shot and killed you because you didn’t follow the rules. And it frustrates me. Because I want to punish you but at the same time, I want to treat you like your fragile and fuck you nice and slow. But I can’t do that, can I brat?” he asked, the question rhetorical. I didn’t answer. I bit my bottom lip, trying to hold myself together. I wanted to scream. But not from anger. From the lack of emotion. I wanted to be hurt until I could feel something, whether it was negative or positive. I just wanted to feel. Maybe then I could go back to normal. I wouldn’t be doing stupid shit in the field or constantly trip over myself and discrediting myself. I had been nothing but dead weight on the case and I wanted to feel bad, but I couldn’t. I was numb. I opened my mouth, speaking soft and quietly, “hurt me.”

Aaron leaned down closer to hear me speak, “what did you say, sweetheart? I need you to speak up.” I projected more of my voice; my tone emotionless as I spoke. “Hurt me. Please just fucking hurt me. Break me.” I think that threw Aaron of balance. He didn’t expect me to want him to hurt me. I enjoyed pain, but not to the degree and in the state of mind he was offering. Aaron hesitated with what to do for a moment, but I could tell he was going to do what I asked. “I’m going to spank you with my hand. Don’t count them out loud. You can beg me to stop if you want. Plead. But the only reason I stop will be because you safe word. After that, I’m going to use my belt. You will count out 10 consecutively and then I’m going to prep and fuck you. You won’t be cumming tonight, baby. You don’t get to cum after the stunt you pulled today.”

I simply nodded, not having the energy to smart off or say anything in my defense. I wanted to be hurt. I just wanted to be pushed into a different headspace than the one I was in. I didn’t give a fuck about the sex or getting off. I just needed to get away from the numbness. I needed to feel grounded by something. The first crack on my ass made me jump a bit but I adjusted quickly. The next slap came quickly, the pace fast and hard. My ass was on fire after the first 10. He hadn’t warmed me up at all. These were meant to be painful. He wanted me to feel these for as long as possible. I was fine with that. The next ten were harder, making me bite my bottom lip until I broke the skin and started bleeding. “I’m bleeding,” I called out, wanting to make sure I didn’t upset him further by bleeding on to the carpet. “Do we need to stop, or will you be ok?” he asked, his hand kneading my ass gently while he rectified this situation.

“We can keep going.” With that he smacked me again, settling back into his rhythm. I felt something inside me retreating. But it wasn’t numbness. It was something else. I couldn’t identify what was changing. I focused on what I was feeling, my brain slipping into subspace with ease. I let out labored breaths as the next 10 came down, my entire lower body on fire. After an even thirty with his hand he stopped, picking up his belt which had been resting beside him on the bed. "Color?" he asked expectantly.

"Green," I answered, not missing a beat. Not thinking about how I actually felt. I just answered on autopilot.

“Count these out. Miss a count we start over. We go until you get it right.” Then the leather strap came down on me, a welt already forming. “One.” He brought it down again. “Two.” This continued, my brain slipping from subspace and into something more primitive. I was beginning to shut down. I was freaking out. After the next crack of his belt on my ass I didn’t count. I safe worded. “Copland.”

Aaron dropped the belt immediately, untying my wrists and bringing me up off of his lap to stand. I almost fell over, but he caught me, steadying me in his grip. I was shaking, my body trying to get away from everything that was happening. I pulled away, backing up and falling to the ground as I backed up to the wall. I pulled my legs in tight, curling up in a defensive position as fear conquered me. “No. Please don’t. Please. I’ll do better, I swear. Please, just no more,” I pleaded, begging for it to stop like I did when I was being raped by the bastard. Tears overwhelmed me, emotions crashing over me like a tidal wave at remembered pain. Fear gripped me, my lungs trying to take in air as I tightened into a ball on the carpeted floor. This wasn’t normal play anymore. This was a reminder of past abuse in hopes of making up for my mistakes. That if I let him hurt me as much as possible then he wouldn’t be angry anymore. I mangled sob escaped me, my emotions hitting me full force. I started to yell at myself in anger. I couldn’t keep anything in anymore.

“GOD DAMN IT, REESE. GET IT TOGETHER. THIS IS WHY EVERYONE ALWAYS FUCKING LEAVES. WHY NO ONE EVER LOVES YOU. BE A MAN FOR ONCE. GOD FUCKING DAMN IT. THIS IS WHY DAD NEVER FUCKING LOVED YOU. YOU COULDN’T TAKE SHIT BECAUSE YOUR SO GOD DAMN WEAK.” I was practically screaming, lost in my own anger and ignoring the other person in the room completely. Inner dialogue began taking over my thoughts. That stupid voice in my head antagonizing me again and again.

**At least you’re finally accepting it. Stupid fucking whore. Can’t even do that anymore, can you? You could whore yourself out in a bunker in Texas but not to the man who took care of you? Pathetic. Always so pathetic. Always have been and always will be. You’re nothing but a weak, pathetic slut and that’s all you will ever be to people. A toy to use. You should be happy if the team even wants you now. Especially Aaron. Couldn’t even take punishment properly.**

My fingers dug into my head tighter as I tucked myself tighter. I felt warm blood trickling down my fingertips, but I didn’t let up. _You deserve this. You deserve to be hurt. Abused. The voice is right. You’re pathetic. Can’t even get ahold of yourself anymore._ Anger surged inside me. Anger directed at my own weaknesses. I felt ashamed. By who I was. What I was. I didn’t want to be in this place anymore. I wanted to get away and lock myself in my apartment. I needed to escape in hopes of having a job in the future.

My body started to move in autopilot. I loosened up, standing and rushing over to the chair where my clothes were. I didn’t care about the pain I was feeling physically. I threw my clothes on. “What are you doing?” Aaron asked, confused. There was something else in his voice that I couldn’t place. I buckled my belt, not glancing back towards him as I spoke. “Leaving. I shouldn’t be here. I never should have been here. I never should have been on this team. I don’t fit here, Hotch. It’s best if I get away from you and your team before I embarrass you all.” I rushed out of the room, not bothering to look at the man sitting on the bed, stunned from what I had just told him. He got up, following close behind me. “Reese, we need to talk through this.” I didn’t stop as he spoke, I simply picked up my shoes and pulled them on, tying them quickly. “There isn’t anything to talk about. You’ll have my transfer papers on your desk within the next two days,” I said quickly. I paused when my eyes snagged on the collar on my wrist. I flipped my wrist over, unclasping it and held it out to him. “I’m sorry.”

He took it from me, his body seemingly frozen from the slurry of information I had just unpacked in the short amount of time I had broken from the scene. I grabbed my bag, checking my pockets for my phone and wallet. My gun and ID were still in his safe, but I didn’t bother worrying about them. I could retrieve them later or ask Hotch to bring them to me. “Reese. You don’t need to leave. I’m not upset at you.” I laughed at that. The sound was rough. Broken. My next words were strained, “yes, I do. I don’t fit here, Hotch. I never will. I’ll go to different division. Hell, maybe I’ll quit and get a civilian job. I’m sorry.” I turned on my heel and started walking to the door. “At least let me drive you to make sure you get home safely,” Aaron demanded, walking towards me and the door. I faltered. “You don’t need to do that, Hotch. I’m fully capable of taking care of myself.” I heard him scoff, a tense laugh escaping him. “Then act like it. You are going off the rails here, Reese. You can’t internalize that forever, but instead of talking with me about it and communicating you had me hurt you past your breaking point.”

That made me freeze. It was like I was chained to the spot. I sensed him coming up behind me. “I never should have pushed anything tonight. If I knew this is what you would do. I didn’t think you wanted me to hurt you to the point of fight or flight,” he said, regret lacing his voice. I had managed to upset him more. Guilt overtook me. I felt terrible. I never wanted to hurt him. In fact, I was trying to do the opposite. I was trying to make sure he didn’t get hurt because of me and all the fucked-up pieces of my soul. The broken shards of me that no one had ever wanted to see. And the realization that struck me scared me more than all the dark thoughts in my head. I had grown attached to him. But it was a stronger attachment than I normally had. I turned around, my eyes wide and mouth open from how shook up I was. “You still… want me?” I asked quietly, so confused by everything. I was too overwhelmed to put things together like normal. “Yes. You were the one who is trying to rush out. I want you here. I want to talk to you and comfort you and make sure you are ok. That’s my job and even if it wasn’t, I would still want to do it. Christ, I wanted to the day I met you.”

My eyes grew impossibly wide, a hand coming up to interlace in my hair in confusion. I didn’t know how to fix this anymore. I didn’t even know how to fix myself. My eyes were on the floor as I tried to piece anything together. “Come here,” he ordered softly. I went to him, cautiously wrapping my arms around his waist as he pulled me into him. I nuzzled into his chest, familiar with the hold. “You need to tell me when you feel this way. I can’t read your mind. And now you’ve overthought so much you think I hate you, want you off the team, and feel like you need to transfer. And then I made it worse by triggering you. Why did you do that, Reese?”

I swallowed, turning my head so he could hear me but not, so I was looking at him. “I wanted to feel something. And that was the quickest way I knew how. I just didn’t… I didn’t want to be so numb anymore.” My voice was small. It reflected how I felt at the moment.

“So you decided that you wanted me to hurt you in a way that was previously abusive?” I nodded, feeling too ashamed to look him in the eyes. Aaron sighed, understanding my thinking and why I was acting the way I was. “Baby. You need to stop doing these things to yourself. I am not leaving you. So, stop pushing me away. There are a lot of ways to cope with things but triggering yourself is just stupid. I’ll take care of you if you just ask.”

He took my head in his hands and tilted my chin up, making me look him directly in the eyes. I peered up at him with doe eyes, feeling so incredibly guilty and all kinds of fucked up. “Trust is the fundamental of this relationship. You need to trust me to give you what you need, and I need to trust you to be comfortable enough to communicate things to me. Do not break that trust again. Do you understand?” He had a stern look on his face that made me all kinds of nervous. “Yes sir,” I replied quietly. He released my chin from his grip. “Good. Now come on. We need to shower and then get some sleep.” I didn’t argue. I just accepted his lead and followed him back down the hall. “Go ahead. I’ll clean up.” I nodded, dropping my bag out of the way and walking into the bathroom.

I stepped into the bathroom, kicking off my shoes by the door and unbuttoning my shirt. I tossed my shirt on the floor as I made my way the shower, turning on the hot water and continuing to strip. I tossed my clothes in a pile, walking over the mirror to take my bandage off. I winced as I peeled the tape back. I glanced over as Aaron stepped into the room. He had already stripped, a set of clothes in his hand that he set on the counter next to me. I finished taking off my bandages, leaving the blood-stained cloth on the counter to throw away after I got out of a much-needed shower. Aaron was already in the shower and I shuffled in behind him, standing as far away as possible out of awkwardness. Aaron turned his head, a sympathetic smile on his face. “Why are you all the way over there? Get over here,” he instructed. His tone wasn’t stern anymore; he had taken on an affectionate demeanor which confused me when I was stricken with overwhelming guilt. I didn’t understand why he cared so much, but I wasn’t going to push the delicate line between us. No way.

I stepped towards him cautiously, as though he was going to change his mind. He wrapped me in his arms, his head resting on top of mine. “You feel bad, don’t you?” I nodded. He didn’t say anything; he just raked his fingers up and down my back. “When will you get it through your stubborn skull that I’m not going to leave you because you have problems?” I shrugged, resting my forehead against his shoulder. He maneuvered me under the spray of the shower, letting go of me and picking up the shampoo to wash my hair. I enjoyed it when he took care of me like this. It was nice to finally rely on someone else for once in my life. It got exhausting carrying the weight of things by myself all the time. I looked up at him. “Thank you,” I said, my voice quiet but sincere. He smiled down at me, his fingers massaging my scalp. “You’re very welcome, baby boy.” He washed the soap out of my hair before pulling me into another embrace. “My sweet boy. My sweet, troubled boy.” I rested my head in the crook of his neck, exhausted from every event that had taken place in the last 48 fucking hours.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, shutting my eyes to try and stop tears from flowing. I felt unbelievably terrible about everything. I was on more solid footing now, but I still felt bad about how I handled the whole thing. “I know you are. I know. But we’re going to get through this because you are going to start communicating better, aren’t you?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good boy. Let’s get you cleaned up. You need sleep. You look like you got hit by a train.” That made me laugh. I couldn’t help it. I guess my laughter spread to Aaron because he started laughing too. I laughed to the point of tears, needing to feel something positive as opposed to all the negative I had been feeling the last few days. “There he is. I know this person,” Aaron teased, a wide smile on his face. I pushed at his shoulder, wiping the tears from my eyes. We finished washing up fairly quickly. Aaron dried me off, handing me a pair of boxers from my bag and one of his t-shirts. “Left wrist,” he said, wanting me to extend my hand to re-secure my collar around my wrist. He wanted to re-stake his claim and I was happy to let him. I held my wrist out, letting him clasp the collar around my wrist. He shook my wrist as he made a point, “mine. You are my boy. Don’t you ever forget that. Ever.” I looked down at my wrist, giving him a sheepish smile as I replied, “yes sir.” He let go of my wrist to tilt my chin up. “Good boy.”

I put on the clothes he handed me, exiting the room to grab my toiletry bag. I brushed my teeth and then shoved everything bag in my go-bag. When I straightened and walked back over to the bed, I was confused to find Aaron waiting on the edge of the bed. He stood, pointing to the bed. “Lay on your stomach.” I complied, still confused as to what he was doing. _He isn’t trying to prep me to have sex, is he? I don’t have it in me tonight._ He pulled down my boxers, exposing my very red ass. I flinched when I felt something cold spread on my ass. “Stay still.” I stilled, trying to stop myself from moving any further. It was some sort of cream to help with the pain in my ass. I hadn’t paid attention to it in the shower because I was too busy talking to Aaron. Now, however, was a different story. It hurt like a bitch. _Ow. Ow. Ow. Son of a bitch._ “All done. Let’s bandage your arm and then we can sleep.” I let him bandage my arm, wincing as he did it. When he was happy with how he wrapped it, he let me get in bed while he cleaned up the first aid supplies.

I slid between the sheets; my eyes still open as I waited for Aaron to get into bed behind me. I felt the bed dip and a warmth at my back. His arm slid across my chest, pulling me into him and holding me there. I winced as he brushed against my ass, eliciting a chuckle from him. He put a leg over my own, making sure I couldn’t get out of his grip. I settled into it comfortably, happy that he still wanted me. “I’m sorry,” I said, closing my eyes as I got comfortable against him. “I know. Sleep now, baby boy. Sleep now.” And I did, sleep taking over and stopping my jumbled thoughts for the next few hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)


	32. In the Pale Moonlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Pale moonlight was streaming through the window, the sound of rain becoming more apparent. I shut my eyes, fighting the darkness inside me. Or at least trying"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: self-harm, blood, homophobia, mentions of rape
> 
> Not this chapter getting super sweet after the dark shit I pulled last chapter. Anyways, happy reading :)

“All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds, wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act on their dreams with open eyes, to make them possible.”  
-T. E. Lawrence

* * *

**_*6 years earlier*_ **

  
_I sat in the back of a dimly lit classroom, a video playing on the projector about something I could give a shit about. I was in my English class. I hated English class. Mostly because this was the class I shared with all the assholes in my academic life. Sam Phillips and his crew mostly. I was the only 15-year-old in the junior class. I was going to graduate next year, and if I played my cards right, I could get a scholarship to the University of Vanderbilt for a full ride or most of a full ride. I looked down at my notebook, trying to write out the outline for a paper due next week in this ridiculously boring class. I felt something hit me in the side of the head, making me look up at Sam. My eyes were cold and hostile. That fucker never left me alone. Ever. I thought it was because he was an insecure little bitch, but that’s just me._

_I glared at him with cold eyes, silently telling him to fuck off. I wasn’t in the mood for his bullshit today. I had too much work to do. I went back to my outline, detailing what I wanted to construe in my paper and why. I flicked open a book, gathering evidence from tabs I had made as I had read it. Another wad of paper hit me in the side of the head. This time I didn’t look up. I just ignored it. The video was interrupted by the sound of the bell ringing, indicating the start of my lunch period. I always skipped lunch, opting to go to the library and work instead. Working was what would get me into Vanderbilt. Not taking personal time. I shoved my things into my backpack, zipping it as I stood and throwing it over my shoulder. I exited the classroom, joining the mob of people walking to other classes or the cafeteria._

_I was suddenly yanked backwards, my back colliding with Sam. He had a shit eating look on his face that made me want to punch him in the nose._

_“What the hell do you want Sam? I have work to do,” I told him, hostility painting my voice and facial expression._

_He smirked down at me, letting me go. “I just want to talk RJ. The usual. I enjoy our little meetings, don’t you?” I just scoffed, flipping him the bird over my shoulder and walking towards the library. I had too much to get done right now. The quicker I got this paper done the quicker I could work on my psych project. A sudden pain came over me as I fell to the cold tile floor with a **thud.** My head smacked the floor, pain radiating throughout my skull in an instant. “Stupid fucking faggot. Maybe one day you’ll learn to be more respectful. Here. I’ll teach you, you stupid little bitch,” Sam sneered, setting out on his mission to make me feel as much pain as possible. I opened my eyes, dazed from my head bouncing off the floor. I braced as Sam stood over me, aiming to kick me squarely in the ribs. I grunted as I absorbed the hit, my breath leaving my lungs in a rush._

_He spoke with every strike, trying to emphasize his point. “Stupid. Fucking. Bitch. What? Not going to fight back RJ? You couldn’t anyways. You’re too weak. Weak. Little. Fag Boy. My lungs were screaming for air, my mouth open as I tried to gulp down air. My eyes were tearing up, pain overtaking my entire body. I was curling up, trying to protect myself on the floor. Sam stopped. “Next time you shouldn’t be such a stupid little bitch. Then you won’t get your ass kicked so often. Porter complains about you every time I go work at the station; you know. Complains about how you lie about getting raped by your own father. Maybe he should. Then you wouldn’t be such a pathetic loser.”_

_I opened my eyes, watching Sam stroll away with his usual crew of goons. I just lay there, my body trying to find the strength to peel myself from the floor. I resisted the urge to weep in the middle of the empty hallway. I slowly picked myself up, standing on shaky legs and clutching my ribcage. I winced every time I took in a breath. I walked down the hall slowly, walking into a restroom and taking the first available stall. I shrugged out my backpack and unzipped the bottom pocket, digging around for the small razor blade I kept in the bag. I found it, setting it on the toilet paper dispenser and unbuckling my belt. I pulled my jeans down, sitting on the toilet and taking the blade to my thigh. I let out a small sigh, the euphoric feeling of chemical release taking me over._

* * *

My eyes flew open, revealing the low light of Aaron’s bedroom. I heard him speaking to me, but I didn’t catch the words, panic gripping me. Sweat misted my skin, my forehead dripping with it. I tried pulling out of the arms around me to no avail. “Reese, baby, it’s me. You were having another nightmare. You’re safe. I’ve got you.” I took in a shaky breath, relaxing back into Aaron’s arms. I was fighting tears. I was tired of crying so damn often. It was humiliating. It made me feel as though I was less of a man somehow. I knew that wasn’t true, but I didn’t want to believe it all at the same time.

Pale moonlight was streaming through the window, the sound of rain becoming more apparent. I shut my eyes, fighting the darkness inside me. Or at least trying. I let out a whimper at remembered pain. Aaron’s voice overtook the sound of the rain hitting the window in front of me. “You’re ok. I’ve got you baby boy.” I moved forward, taking off my sweat soaked shirt and tossing it in front of me before settling back into Aaron’s chest. I struggled to get my breathing to slow down, taking in deep breaths in hopes of calming down. Too many emotions overtook me. Too many thoughts and memories. Too many dark things from both personal experience and from my professional one. “I’m sorry I woke you up,” I said in a small, cracked whisper. His arm was around my chest, holding me to him tightly. I gripped onto his arm tightly, as though he was going to evaporate into thin fucking air.

“No need to be sorry, baby. You were having a bad dream. That isn’t your fault.” His voice was deep and thick like it always was when he first woke up in the morning. I was shaking under him. I felt like a damn child and I hated that. I hated feeling helpless and out of control. I clung tighter to Aaron’s arm, my back shifting back to try to get as close as possible to him. I felt his breath on my neck, his mouth trailing light kisses up to the sensitive spot behind my ear. I let out a small cry out of need. I needed to get out of my own head. To not think about all the fucked-up things in my life right now. To not have to hear another screaming child or look at another brutally murdered woman.

Aaron spoke before I could get anymore words out. “What do you need baby? You have to communicate.”

I swallowed, taking in a shallow breath before replying. “Take me out of my head. Please,” I pleaded softly, “need you to take me out of my head, please.”

He smiled against my skin, kissing behind my ear. “How can I say no when you ask so sweetly? My sweet boy.” He turned my head towards him, trailing kisses along my jawline. My breath hitched in my throat, need cascading inside me. He pulled away, opening the bedside drawer and blindly searching for something inside. “Look back at the window.” I did so immediately, watching the rain trickle down the windowpane. I felt a calloused hand at my waist, rubbing small gentle circles. “Lift up so I can take these off of you,” he ordered gently. I lifted myself, helping him pull my sweat dampened boxers off and kicking them down the bed. He went back to kissing up and down my neck and jaw. His fingers slid up my abdomen, tracing over my muscles and up to my chest. He tweaked my left nipple, making me inhale sharply. Aaron let out a noise of satisfaction, his mouth moving back up towards my ear. “I don’t play with these enough. You’re always so needy and I never get to take my time just exploring every inch of your glorious body. Maybe one day, I’ll make you cum just from playing with these. Would you like that baby? Cumming from only getting your nipples played with?”

That elicited a small moan from me, my muscles tightening as his fingers ran up and down my skin. My cock was starting to harden as he slowly seduced me. “Always so responsive,” he purred, his hand gliding down to cup my erection. He let go, reaching around to grab something on the bed. I heard the cap of the lube bottle snap open and one of his hands cupping one of my sore asscheeks. I winced slightly but quickly settled into the sensation. One of his fingers rimmed my asshole, a small whimper escaping me. His finger slid inside of me to the knuckle, stretching me out lightly. I pushed my hips back, trying to take more of his finger inside me. I was stupid with need. Aaron chuckled, pulling his finger back and sliding back in slowly. “I never said you could move, but I’ll let it go. I know how needy you can be,” he said, his finger still sliding in and out at a slow pace. I felt a second finger pushing into me and scissoring inside me to stretch me open.

I moaned shamelessly, my mind sinking into subspace quickly and easily. My cock was pulsing and twitching. Arousal coursed through me as well as need. He pulled his fingers out of me, making me whine out of need. “I’ve got you baby boy. I promise. Daddy’s got you.” I moaned again, my moan mixing with a whimper. I felt something cold press into me, pushing inside until it was barely hitting my sweet spot. I heard something click and then the plastic object inside me was vibrating. I squirmed, not expecting the sudden sensation. Aaron pressed against my back, his hand moving to my pelvis, gliding down until he gripped my throbbing dick. His hand was already slick with lube, stroking me lazily and slow. I was already bucking my hips into his hand, trying to get more friction.

Aaron’s teeth caught the lobe of my ear, biting softly. “We’re going to have to work on your patience, sweetheart. I never gave you permission to move. I’ll take care of you; you just have to be patient.” I reluctantly stopped moving, not wanting him to stop stroking me. My mouth fell open as pleasure built inside me. The vibrator was slowly moving me towards the edge, barely hitting that one spot. It was near torturous. Resisting the urge to buck my hips was hard, whimpers and whines emitting from my throat. “I know how much you want to thrust into my hand to get yourself closer to cumming, but you’re not going to, are you baby? You’re going to be my obedient little boy and let daddy do everything. Such a good boy for me.”

I nodded fiercely, trying to keep myself still. I wanted to please him. And some little part of me wanted to prove that I wasn’t such a fuck up. That I could actually follow the rules. No matter how small and insignificant the rule was in the long run. Aaron ran used his free hand to pull my hair back, forcing my head back into his shoulder and chest. He exposed my neck and jaw, his mouth sucking on the skin greedily. He was leaving more marks, but I was a needy mess, so I didn’t really care. I was squirming in his grip, the feeling of his hand slowly stroking my cock and the vibrator nudging that sensitive spot inside me becoming unbearable. I squeezed my eyes shut, the stimulation becoming too much yet not enough all at the same time. “Please…” I pleaded quietly, desperation oozing out of me.

“Please what? You need to be more specific,” he teased, his hand squeezing the tip of my cock making me moan. Precum leaked out of my cock and into his hand, a low groan emitting from his throat.

“Please, more. I need… more. Please,” I begged, trying to stay as still as possible.

He hummed, thinking about it. “I don’t know. I think you should be able to cum from just this. If you want to cum, this should be enough to get you over the edge.”

I whined. I flat out whined, desperate and needy for more. He sped up a little, giving me just a little bit more. I bit my bottom lip, trying to contain my noises. I didn’t want to make any noise. He slowed back down, his voice in my ear, “don’t bite your lip. I want to hear all those desperate little cries and slutty little moans.” I immediately released my bottom lip from my teeth, a high-pitched cry coming out of me. He resumed his faster pace, stroking me at a consistent but torturous pace. He kept talking shit in my ear, “go ahead baby boy. Beg daddy to stroke you faster. Be a good boy and beg for me. Tell me how bad you want to cum for me.”

I wasted no time doing just that. “Please. I need to cum so bad. I want to cum for you daddy. Please let me cum for you. I need more. Pleasepleasepleaseplease,” I begged breathlessly, my body beginning to tremble as I got closer to being undone. I was deep in submission, my mind only focused on what Aaron wanted. That was all that mattered in that moment. It was liberating.

“Mmmm… you have no idea how perfect you look right now baby. How damn beautiful you look begging for me to let you cum, submitting to me so easily. So perfect for me… so beautiful…” he trailed off, turning my head to kiss me nice and slow. He took my mouth, sucking on my tongue gently. I moaned into it, pushing my head forward to deepen it. His grip on my hair tightened, his other hand stroking me slightly faster. He pulled my head back slightly, his forehead resting against mine.

“Need you,” I mumbled, lost to all the sensations I was feeling. I hadn’t even noticed that Aaron had turned the lamp off. All I could do was feel and see what was illuminated in the pale moonlight. Aaron started rolling his hips, grinding himself against me. He took my mouth in another kiss, the action one of intimacy and deep affection. I reciprocated his passion, returning the affectionate and intimate gesture. “Please… I need you inside me…” I told him, my breathing picking up as we fell into what seemed like a different world. We were both lost in the moment. Lost in each other. Something that usually terrified me. But I didn’t want to be terrified anymore. I wanted this. I wanted to be intimate with Aaron. To show him every side of me. To find my solace in him.

He pulled back; a delight filled smile on his impeccable face. His features were hard to make out in the dark, but I didn’t need the light to see it. He reached between us, his hand running between my ass and teasing the vibrator inside me. I was so incredibly aroused. But at the same time, it was more than that. For once in my life I felt whole. Like all the pieces of me were together. I felt safe and protected. I felt connected. This was different than any other feeling I had ever felt before. It was something I had never experienced with another human being. The thoughts finally clicked in my mind. I knew what this was. What we were. I had grown to love him. I _loved_ someone. I didn’t want to ruin anything by thinking about it too hard; I just kept it to myself.

He pulled out the vibrator, dropping it between us on the covers and reaching back behind him blindly. He picked up the lube, squirting some into his hand and closing the bottle, tossing it behind him again. He was coating his cock, preparing to slide inside me. And he did, a moan wrenched from my lungs as he did. In one fluid motion he was all the way inside me. It burned a little, but the burning feeling quickly went away, replaced by one of immense pleasure. Aaron didn’t move any further. He kept himself still inside me, his other hand slowly stroking my aching dick. I didn’t let him get a word out. “Please move… please daddy… I need you…” I said quietly, desperate for him to move. I wanted to feel him. I also wanted him to feel good. I wanted to connect to him as much as possible. He acquiesced immediately, his hips rolling slowly. His thrusts were slow but deep. This wasn’t the normal fast paced fucking we normally did. No. This was slow, passionate love making, and I was enjoying every moment of it.

 _To think that I almost walked away from him last night. That I almost fucked this up._ My head fell back against his muscular shoulder, his hard cock hitting my prostate dead on. He let go of my cock momentarily, his hand then came back accompanied by the vibrator. He ran it over tip of my cock. “Fuck… daddy,” I moaned out breathlessly, feeling ridiculously close to climax.

“Hold back, baby. I want you to cum at the same time as me. But I’m not going to pull out afterwards. Your tight little ass is going to keep my cock warm all night long. How does that sound baby boy? Keeping daddy’s hard cock inside you all night long. God… _fuck_ ,” he bit out, his voice filled with lust and arousal. He was just as turned on as I was. I whimpered at the suggestion, approving of his idea. “You’re always so damn perfect. My perfect little boy. So good for me. That’s it sweetheart, take my cock just like that. Not even trying to thrust into my hand… always grateful for what I give you. So submissive… so good. So tight and warm.”

He kept thrusting, his pace only getting a little bit faster. He was making slow, sweet love to me. Every roll of his hips, every stroke of his hand with the vibrator on my cock got me closer and closer to toppling over the edge. I was so close. “I’m gonna c-cum soon,” I announced, my words laced with immense pleasure and satisfaction. He had me right where he wanted me. I was deep in submission and ecstasy, no longer controlled by dark thoughts that threatened to attack at any given moment. “Good boy,” he praised lightly, “such a good boy. Just a little longer baby boy. Then you can cum. Daddy will let you cum soon.” I closed my eyes, my hand reaching back to grip his arm. His breathing was picking up. He was getting close. I was pleased by that thought. It made me goofy with triumph. I could make him feel this way, and no one else could. He found just as much pleasure and comfort in me as I did in him. His thrusts became just a tad faster as he began chasing his climax. “Buck into my hand baby boy. Buck into my hand and when I count down, I want you to cum for me.”

He didn’t have to tell me twice. My hips thrust into his hand desperately, a cry of desperation dying on my lips. “10… 9… 8… 7… 6… that’s it, just like that. So close baby. You’re so close. 5… 4… 3… 2… almost there. 1… cum for me sweetheart. Be a good boy and cum for daddy.” I came hard, exploding into his hand as he came inside me. My toes curled as the intense pleasure overtook me. My head fell forward, my body heaving for breath as I recovered from one of the most intense orgasms I had ever had in my entire fucking life. Aaron shifted forwards, his head resting against my shoulder, his breathing hard. He clicked off the vibrator, tossing it behind us and listening to it hit the floor with a thud.

We lay like that for a while, simply trying to catch our breath and take in the post-orgasmic high. “You were such a good boy… you always are. My perfect boy. _Mine_ ,” he rasped, his lips pressing against the skin of my upper back. I basked in the praise, making as much as I could out of his words. He shifted back, taking me with him as he spooned me, his cock still inside me. I was gathering the courage to tell him something important. I nuzzled back into his strong chest, feeling unbelievably safe.

“Hey Aaron…” I whispered into the darkness.

“Yes, baby boy?” he asked, prompting me to continue with what I was saying.

I swallowed, using every bit of courage I had inside me to force the words out. “I um… I love you…” I whispered, preparing for rejection. _Hope for the best, plan for the worst._

He sat silent for a moment before he leaned in, kissing my cheek. “I love you too, baby boy.” My eyes widened in surprise. I didn’t think he would say it back. I thought he was going to reject me. “Now go to sleep. We have to work in the morning, which means getting up early.” I did as I was told, feeling the best I had in months as I drifted back into sweet unconsciousness.

* * *

The insistent beeping of Aaron’s alarm made me groan. “Why can’t serial killers just fuck off for a few days so that we can sleep more?” I complained sleepily. Aaron chuckled, his chest vibrating against my back. He rolled his hips just barely, his erection pressing against my prostate. I inhaled sharply, arching forward as much as his grip around my chest would allow. His mouth was at the back of my neck, kissing its way down to my right shoulder. “We have to go to work bello. We don’t have time for this,” I said, my voice breathy as he flexed inside me, trying to provoke me. He rolled into me again making me throw my head back into his shoulder, a small moan escaping my throat.

He inhaled, kissing up to the exposed side of my neck gently. “You have no idea how good it feels to wake up inside you. If I could, I would spend the day fucking you into this mattress. Some days, I want to call you into my office and bend you over my desk and fuck the hell out of you. _God_ …” he trailed off, his cock still barely pulling back and then pushing back inside me to hit my sweet spot just right. He thrust in a few more times, reluctantly pulling out of me. “Roll over onto your stomach. I’ll clean you up.” I rolled onto my stomach, my head falling forward and burying into the pillows. I groaned, not wanting to get out of bed. Sometimes I didn’t feel like doing my job. It could be overwhelming. I heard Aaron returning, his footsteps pausing next to me. A warm rag slipped between my legs, cleaning off all the lube and his cum. He gave me a light slap on the ass. “Come on. We unfortunately have work to do.”

I got up, standing with my face in my hands for a few seconds, mentally preparing myself to sit and do paperwork for hours. If we were really unlucky, we would have another case already. But that was rare. We often got a day or two of peace at minimum. I went over to where my go-bag was on the floor, rummaging around for the cleanest thing possible. “You should start keeping clothes over here for when you sleep over,” Aaron suggested from his position at his closet. I nodded in agreement, pulling out a pair of black jeans and a cream turtleneck. I found a clean pair of boxer briefs and slipped those on before slipping into my jeans and readjusting my pockets. I buckled my belt, remembering my holster and gun were in his gun safe. I pulled the turtleneck over my head, trying not to get fucking stuck in all the material. Aaron was in a pinstripe suit, white dress shirt, and a maroon tie. His normal work attire. We moved around each other with ease, going about our normal routines while simultaneously forging a new one with each other. It was nice that we could simply coexist with one another.

**

  
Aaron and I were riding in silence in the car. My car was still at the academy. I had opted to ride home with Aaron. It just made my life easier. I watched D.C. pass by us in a blur, passers by oblivious to the world around them. I decided to break the silence between us. “Do you ever feel like you’ve failed even though you’ve technically achieved what people deem as success?” I asked, my eyes still focused on the outside world.

He thought about it for a few moments, silence overtaking the car yet again. “I used to. Especially as a younger prosecutor. I was winning my cases, but I still felt as though I was failing because I couldn’t stop the crimes from happening before they reached my desk. Why?”

I sighed, trying to articulate what I wanted to say. “I just… I can’t help but feel useless. My entire life I’ve worked to become something other people have deemed as successful but now I’m technically here and I feel like I’m a failure. Like yeah, I’m on this team, but how much am I actually doing to help it? Hell, my last attempt at helping nearly got me fucking killed. I just… I just don’t know where I am in life anymore. I don’t know what to do or how to navigate things at all.”

“But you aren’t a failure. And you aren’t useless. Yes, what you did was reckless and stupid, but you saved a young boy and reunited a family. And all this self-doubt is what is going to lead to someone getting hurt. As a profiler you have to be confident in your assessments and abilities. The second you start making reckless decisions like that EVERY case, I’ll pull you out of the field myself and make sure you are where you need to be, but as of right now, you are right where you are supposed to be.”

I took that in, trying to process it and believe it. It was difficult to believe. I scoffed, “you know, my entire life people have told me that I was never going to become anything. It’s weird to think that now they would respect me and what I do yet I can’t. Isn’t that funny?”

Aaron laughed a little. It was a small, tense laugh. “As the great David Rossi once told me, ‘life is a hell of a thing to happen to a person.’”

I laughed, knowing how undoubtedly true that was. Life was hard. And I was going to make the most of it, or at least die trying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, kind stranger :)


	33. Bonding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I was sitting in the inside of a booth in an American style dinner, Aaron sitting next to me and Jack across from me. Jack had a goofy grin on my face. Aaron hadn’t told him I was going to be joining them and he had gotten really excited when I was leaning against the car for them both. He had actually run up and hugged me, knocking the wind out of me slightly. I looked over my menu, deciding on what to eat. I glanced over at Aaron. “I will pay for my meal tonight. Do not pay for it or I swear to god I will kick the crap out of you,” I warned jokingly. Jack laughed, waiting for a response from his father."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy reading everyone! I tried to throw in some more Jack, Hotch, and Reese fluff because why the fuck not. Enjoy :)

“Hate is the consequence of fear; we fear something before we hate it; a child who fears noises becomes a man who hates noise.”  
-Cyril Connolly

* * *

Aaron and I pulled into a parking space outside the FBI academy in Quantico. I grabbed the go-bag at my feet and stepped out of the car, shutting the door and waiting for Aaron. Aaron opened the door to the backseat, grabbing his own bag and stepping towards the entrance to the building. “I have to get Jack tonight. Do you want to get dinner with us?” he asked, glancing in my direction.

I shot him a guilt-ridden look. “I don’t want to intrude on your time with your son. It makes me feel bad.”

He shot me a look of his own, bewilderment on his face. “Why? You aren’t intruding on anything. I’m inviting you. If I didn’t want to you to share time with us, then I wouldn’t have offered. I can spend time with the both of you. And Jack likes you. He wouldn’t mind having you around.” That made me feel shy, my eyes shooting down to look at the ground as I walked beside him. He chuckled. “So shy about the smallest things. It’s adorable,” he said, his tone affectionate. My skin flushed, a blush blooming across my face. I didn’t look up at him. Not even to glare. “And now your blushing because I called you adorable. You’re so shy you won’t even look up at me to argue,” he said, his voice dropping a bit lower, “my shy, submissive little boy.” My footsteps stuttered when he said that. I didn’t know whether to look at him wide eyed or keep my head down to hide how profusely I was blushing.

I opted to look at him wide eyed, my mouth open as I stammered, trying to tell him that we were at work. The words never managed to come out of my mouth. He was biting his bottom lip, trying to contain his laughter at what he had done to me with just a few words. I looked back down at the ground, trying to compose myself before I walked into the office and became subject to intense teasing from my coworkers. It was somewhat odd, though. Hotch wasn’t one for joking and teasing at work. And yet here he was. Teasing me and calling me pet names as we entered the office doors and waited for the elevator. I stood next to him the elevator, trying to avoid making any sort of eye contact. He was probably stone faced again, while I on the other hand, was cherry fucking red and bashful. Not something that usually suited me. I didn’t look at him as we exited the elevator onto our floor. He held the door open, gesturing me inside the bullpen. I immediately went to my desk, dropping my bag and kicking it under my desk so that it was out of the way. My phone buzzed, distracting me from my normal routine of settling in.

_Hotch: Dinner? If it makes you that uncomfortable you don’t have to. But Jack and I would love to have you._

I smiled shyly down at the screen, typing out a reply.

_Me: Sure. I just need to get new clothes from my apartment._   
_Hotch: Alright. Now get to work before your boss catches you and gets mad._

I chuckled at the text on the screen, turning the screen off and shoving the device back in my pocket. I sighed, not excited to get through all the reports and paperwork that have to do with getting grazed by a bullet. My focus, however, was quickly interrupted by my coworkers who were obviously in the mood to mess with me.

“Morning kid. What has you in such a good mood this early?” Derek asked, his signature smile on his face. I thought about it, trying to come up with a lie.

“Just got plenty of sleep, that’s all,” I lied, not taking the liberty to look up from my work.

Emily scoffed, eyeing me skeptically. “No, it’s more than that. You got laid again, didn’t you? That’s the only way you could have managed to go from freaking out about your job to perfectly calm in less than 12 hours. You have a man and then went and saw him,” Emily hypothesized.

I just shrugged, trying not give anything away. “Maybe. Maybe not. I keep telling you people I’m not seeing anyone, but you won’t listen. I’m just not interested in dating. With our work schedule I don’t have time.”

Derek glanced over at Emily, a look of skepticism on his own face. It turned into a wicked grin when he turned back to talk to me. “Then how about we set you up?”

I looked up at Derek, an unamused look on my face. I wasn’t impressed by the suggestion. “No. I don’t trust one-night stands or anything like that. Not after… all that stuff Texas. I’m nervous to go out at this point. Not my thing.”

Their faces collectively turned into looks of sympathy. They understood my thinking, but I really just hoped that they would stop pushing me about who I was seeing. JJ was joining us, walking through with more files and reports for the rest of us. I groaned, taking my stack from her and dropping it in my desk tray. “Great. More paperwork to make me want to blow my brains out,” I complained, making Spencer laugh from across from me.

Derek smiled, opening his desk to retrieve a pen. “You know that we are here for you, though, right? We have your back kid. All of us. Hotch and Rossi included.” I nodded, opening the first file and digging into the long list of things I had to do for the day.

“What am I included in?” Hotch asked from behind me, making me jump about a mile high. The other three started laughing, making me narrow my eyes in disapproval.

“Being there for Reid 2.0. He doesn’t want us to set him up on a date because ‘one-night stands aren’t my thing.’” Emily explained, mocking me in a way.

Hotch laughed, looking down at me with a smirk on his face. “Well the next time we go out as a team, I bet they can set you up. That way we are all here to witness what happens.”

My eyes widened and looked up at Hotch with skepticism of my own. “Oh, not you too. Please give me break.” I was surprised that Hotch had said that, but I knew he was trying to sell his distance. They still didn’t know we were the ones fucking each other. But at the same time, I saw a teasing challenge in his eyes, telling me to _‘do it. See what happens.’_ That made a spark of playful defiance run through me, the urge to rise to the challenge strong. _Oh, we will see about this. You want a challenge? You got one._

“Alright. Fine. Next time we go out as a team, I will attempt to find a date or a hook-up. How’s that?” I asked, a smirk coming across my own face as I looked back down at the rest of my team members. The others smiled, nodding their acceptance of my ‘compromise.’ “Great. Now, I’m going to do my job.”

* * *

It was around 5:30 when I finally wrapped it up for the day. Rossi, Prentiss, and Morgan had already bounced, while Spencer and I were packing up our things to leave for the night. I pulled my go-bag out from under my desk, sitting it on my desktop. I picked up a stack of files that I needed to give to Hotch, as well as some medical work for him to sign or something. _Who would have thought getting shot in the arm came with this much extra paperwork? Jesus. It was only a small graze._

“You have any plans?” Spencer asked, throwing his leather messenger bag over his shoulder.

I didn’t look up from what I was doing. “Yeah. I’m going out to dinner. I don’t really want to cook, and profiling random people is fun when I’m bored. What about you?”

I looked up as he started rambling, a broad smile on his face. “I’m going to see a Russian film. I would invite you, but you have plans, and last I checked, you only speak English and Italian.” I grinned at him. I always enjoyed listening to Reid ramble about the simplest things. That was mostly why I was nicknamed Reid 2.0 or Reid Junior. Sometimes I was mini boy-wonder. It really just depended on the day and the mood my coworkers were in. It never bothered me. I was also one of the only ones who enjoyed learned as much as Spencer did. I could keep up with him. It was entertaining for me.

Spencer took his leave, waving to me with a warm smile. I waved back, turning to take my reports up to Hotch and make dinner plans. I didn’t bother knocking on the door, opening it and shutting it behind me. I dropped the files and paperwork on his desk in its normal spot and took a seat across from him. I just looked at him, waiting expectantly for him to say something. He looked up from his paperwork, his mind switching from his usual stoic Unit Chief self, to his more laid-back intimate side of his personality. He had a smirk on his face, glancing down to check the time on his watch. “I need five more minutes. We can swing by your apartment on the way back to mine. We can discuss food choices when we get Jack,” he informed me, his gaze and focus returning to what I assumed was a consult on his desk.

“Sounds good. And, next time, do not make me challenge you when it comes to ‘finding a date when we are out as a team.’ Now I have to do it, simply to piss you off,” I said, mischief lacing my words and burning in my gray eyes.

He looked back up at me to show me the wolfish grin on his face. And all I could think was _damn_. Hotch never smiled often, but when he did when he was with me, it always made me reveal in it. He was good looking. No denying that. “I think you will find that to be a mistake. I don’t share what’s mine,” he shot back, both teasing and serious. He meant what he said. He was a straightforward man, and if he said I would regret it, I probably would.

I quirked a brow, a smirk of my own playing on my lips. I wanted to make up for any lost bratty behavior and for the comment he made on the elevator about my shyness. “Oh? Then I guess we _will_ find out the next time we go out as a team.” I toyed with the band around my wrist, already planning in my head. I didn’t actually want to get a date, I simply wanted to fuck with Aaron and get a rise out of him. I wanted to prompt some sort of action.

He signed something on his paper, clicking his pen and setting it down. He looked back up at me, leaning back in his chair with that powerful way he always had. It was a move of dominance, made to assert his authority over mine. It sent a subconscious message and sent a small shiver up my spine. He licked his bottom lip, eyeing me with a hunger in his eyes. I felt like I was an antelope being watched by a god damn lion. “I wouldn’t suggest getting cocky with me, sweetheart. I’m not afraid to knock you back down a peg and don’t think that I won’t,” he warned insidiously.

My eyes darkened with mischief, the urge to make him back-up his words strong. But the best course of action was to hold onto this until we went out. Then I would get the reaction I wanted. The most effective way to be a brat was to behave until the best moment not to. So, I let this go. At least for the moment. “Fine, fine. Point taken, bello,” I said, leaning back and throwing my hands up, “non c’e bisogno di avere tutti I maschi alfa su di me (no need to get all alpha male on me).” Aaron didn’t bother asking for a translation. _I bet he looked up a list of curse words in Italian just so that he would know when I’m insulting him. That’s just fun. Time to learn another language, I guess._

He started winding down for the day, putting files and things away and getting his things together. “I’ll call Jessica and fill her in. Get your stuff,” he instructed, putting his phone to his ear as he waited for Jessica to pick up. I did so dutifully, walking out of his office to get my things, double checking my pockets for everything. I opened my desk drawer, grabbing my knife out of the drawer. I had decided that I was going to put mine in the small box in my T.V. cabinet after the last incident. I wouldn’t cut if I wasn’t tempted as much. I wanted to stay clean. If not for myself, for Aaron and the rest of my team, who I considered to be my family. I leaned against my desk, waiting for Aaron to emerge from his office. He did after a few minutes, a briefcase with all his things in his hand.

I clapped slowly, trying to be dramatic. “Very fancy,” I joked sarcastically, making him roll his eyes and chuckle.

“Let’s go.”

**

  
I was sitting in the inside of a booth in an American style dinner, Aaron sitting next to me and Jack across from me. Jack had a goofy grin on my face. Aaron hadn’t told him I was going to be joining them and he had gotten really excited when I was leaning against the car for them both. He had actually run up and hugged me, knocking the wind out of me slightly. I looked over my menu, deciding on what to eat. I glanced over at Aaron. “I will pay for my meal tonight. Do not pay for it or I swear to god I will kick the crap out of you,” I warned jokingly. Jack laughed, waiting for a response from his father.

Aaron turned to look at me, a grin on his face at my threat that wasn’t that threatening. He was a weighed a solid 30 pounds more than I did, all of which being toned muscle, and was 4 inches taller. He could beat me in a fight easily, but I could still try and instill some sort of ‘fear.’ I wasn’t as intimidating as he was, either. I was simply more sarcastic and aggressive. Aaron was way different from me physically. He was broader and his muscles were toned but still more defined than mine were. He had darker, course hair while mine was lighter and thinner and I didn’t have nearly as much as he did. I waxed my chest while he didn’t. He emitted powerful, calm dominance while I was more submissive and had to prove I could hold my own. My skin was a lighter tan color while his was a darker tan. At the end of the day, he could snap me like a twig and we both knew it. I grinned back, waiting for a witty retort or a threat of his own. “Is that a challenge?” he asked, a brow quirked at me, prompting an answer.

I nodded, “yep. It sure is. Don’t make me show you up in front of your son, bello. Non ho paura di stancarti un po’.” He threw his head back, laughing dramatically. I narrowed my eyes at him, glaring. Jack had been laughing the entire time. I pointed at him. “What’s so funny over there?”

Jack took a second, recuperating from all the laughter. “It’s funny that you think you could take dad in a fight. I think I could beat you in a fight, and I’m only 10.”

I looked at Aaron, a look of shocked amusement taking over my features. “And you say I’m cocky. Your own son is making bets about his fighting skills and he’s not even close to my size. I know I can’t take you, but lord, I’m not getting shown up by a 10-year-old boy.” That made Aaron laugh harder, the sound higher than his normal pitch. He had an asthmatic laugh. “Don’t die over there,” I joked sarcastically. Aaron smacked me lightly on the back of the head like Morgan and Prentiss normally did. “Ow. Can you people stop smacking me in the head? I don’t appreciate it,” I complained, my hand rubbing where he smacked me.

He pursed his lips, stifling more laughter. He shook his head, looking at me with a warm look in his eyes. “No, I don’t think I will. It’s funny,” he said, trying to stave off another fit of laughter. I glared, looking back down at my menu and going over the options. Our waiter came back, placing our drinks in front of us. I had ordered a sweet tea, but I had lived in Virginia long enough to know it wasn’t southern style where it was actually sweet. I took two Splenda packets, ripping them and dumping them in my tea. Aaron eyed me warily. “That’s a lot of sugar.”

I shot him a confused look, not agreeing with him. “It’s supposed to be sweet tea. Where I grew up, this isn’t even that much sugar for an iced tea.”

Jack looked at me from behind his cup, swallowing quickly to ask me a question. “Where did you grow up?”

“Knoxville, Tennessee. It was terrible, but the tea was way better. Tea this bitter should be a crime,” I replied, throwing subtle shade at the tea in my cup.

“What was so bad about it? I’ve heard about Nashville and all the music. Was Knoxville just boring or something?” Jack asked, curiosity painting over his face. Jack was always curious. Hopefully, that would get him far in life. It meant that life wouldn’t get as boring for him.

I shrugged, not really sure how to answer his question without getting all dark and personal. His innocent curiosity sent a small twinge of anxiety through me, my body weight shifting just slightly out of discomfort. Aaron’s hand went to my thigh under the table, stroking my thigh over the denim of my jeans. I moved one of my hands over his, squeezing it as though I was trying to make sure it was real. “There were just a lot of mean people. I was a social reject as a kid and as a teenager. No friends. Not any other family besides my dad. Just wasn’t a great place for me which is why I moved away. I used to live in New York and boy was that different from Knoxville. Sheesh.”

Jack’s eyes lit up like a damn Christmas tree. “You lived in New York!?” he asked, clearly excited and even more curious about that.

I nodded, taking a sip of my tea. “Two years, right smack dab in the middle of the city.”

“What’s it like? Was it cool?” he asked, jumping right into his questions.

I smiled, enjoying his interest in learning about almost everything around him. I knew that would get him places. The simple want to learn always took people places. It got me to Vanderbilt and then to the FBI. “It was pretty cool. A lot of different people and things to see. But living there isn’t always as cool as it sounds. I was working almost every day and the workdays were long. I didn’t get out much. It’s only, what, a one-hour flight? Your dad will have to take you sometime.”

Jack looked at his father eagerly, agreeing with my suggestion. “Do you think we could go around Christmas if you’re not working?” he asked, ridiculously excited.

Aaron shrugged. “Maybe. If I’m not working, then I don’t see why not. Rockefeller center is usually decorated really nicely at Christmas time.”

I nodded in agreement. “Christmas is usually really nice down there. And so is New Years. Although I never really celebrate either.”

Jack and Aaron both paused and looked at me as though I had grown two fucking heads. Their faces were of pure disbelief. “You don’t celebrate Christmas?” Jack asked, still completely shocked that I had even said that.

I leaned back a little, surprised by how serious they were taking that. _It’s just a holiday. I’m not even that religious. Jesus_ … “No. Never have. My dad and I didn’t really partake in religion so there was no point. He didn’t pay attention much. I guess its never been a big deal for me because no one ever made it a big deal,” I explained. Jack’s mouth fell open, his gaze shooting to his father as though he was going to have a solution to this ‘problem.’

Jack spoke before Aaron could even get a word out. “Dad, please tell me you can some how make Reese celebrate Christmas with us.”

I stifled a laugh, his face and his blunt statement combined too funny than it was really supposed to be. I bit my bottom lip to contain my laughter. I glanced over at Aaron, waiting for him to say something. “Jack, I can’t threaten his job because he doesn’t celebrate Christmas. That’s not how it works,” he said, trying not to laugh, “but we can ask if he would like to. That’s usually how we go about things.” Aaron turned to me, who was somewhat red in the face from containing all my laughter. “Would you like to celebrate Christmas with us? We wouldn’t mind one more.”

My eyes shot to my hands in my lap, my fingers going to play with the leather band out of shyness. “I don’t want to intrude on your family,” I said, not looking up at either of them.

Jack scoffed, “you aren’t intruding. Do you think that we would offer if we didn’t mean it? Aren’t you supposed to be smart?” That stunned me and Aaron. Aaron nearly choked on his water and I blushed profusely, not daring to look up. My eyes were wide as I stared at my lap, my lips twisting into a stunned smile. _Did I actually just get called out by a 10-year-old? There is no way. Can’t be. I refuse to accept it._ Aaron was laughing next to me, trying to calm his laughter before ‘reprimanding’ his son. At this point I thought that the call out was fair. I was saved when the waiter came back over to take our orders. The three of us all ordered burgers and fries. I handed over my menu, letting the waiter walk away. Jack got up, looking at us both. “I’m going to the bathroom while you two losers argue about Christmas. Dad, you better win,” he said seriously, pointing his finger at us both and walking away.

I watched him walk away, my eyes sliding to the man next to me. “Did your son just call us both losers?” I asked in slight disbelief. I was however, impressed by how funny Jack was. He was a little comedian. _Probably got that from his mom._ Aaron nodded, chuckling. “So, your telling me that he can call you a loser and he gets away alive, but I do the same thing and get a smack on the head, and when we are alone, get spanked? The injustice,” I said sarcastically.

He laughed, grinning at me. I looked away shyly, a smile of my own on my face. “Oh, don’t get shy on me now, brat,” he said playfully, making me blush. I waved him off, trying to hide how red my face was with both shyness and from intense laughter. “We’re going to have to work on all that shyness. Although it suits you, you shouldn’t get shy around me for the simplest things,” he stated, his hand grabbing one of mine and stroking over the top of it, “anyways, I have to somehow convince you to celebrate Christmas with us. So how do I go about doing that? Bribery? That would probably work against you.”

I glared at him, making him chuckle. “I just don’t want to be bothersome. I hate being annoying to people. I don’t want to intrude on someone else’s family. It makes me feel guilty,” I explained shyly. I hated being out of place, especially with other people’s families. I looked away again, insecurity coming after me.

He sighed, looping am arm around my shoulder and pulling me into him. My eyes widened, but I didn’t look up. I wasn’t expecting a public display of affection, especially when Aaron’s son was around or could be at least. I tried to pull away to no avail. His grip was stronger than expected. “Oh no. You aren’t getting away from me just because your shy,” he admonished playfully. I peered up at him with an innocent look on my face, a small smile on my lips before looking back down. “I don’t know if I prefer when you’re being shy or when you’re being a brat. Your shyness is such a contrast from when you’re being bratty and challenging my authority,” he pointed out, making me try and pull away again. His grip around me got tighter. He leaned down a little to ensure I could hear him. “Stop trying to get away from me. Don’t forget your place, baby boy,” he warned in a low tone.

I peered back up at him, my eyes wide and innocent. He had cocked his eyebrows; a stern look on his face that made me swallow. Jack was walking back over to us, sliding into the booth across from us. He seemed unbothered by the fact that I was stuck against his father’s side with an arm around my shoulder. My gaze shot from Jack to Aaron and then to Jack and then to my lap, panic clear on my face. Aaron shook me a little bit. “Jack doesn’t care. I told him a few weeks ago. He’s fine. Stop freaking out about my hugging you. Please,” Aaron said, exasperated.

I just nodded, not really taking in what he said until a few moments later. “Wait, you did what?” I asked, a small amount of panic and anxiety surging inside me. Aaron rolled his eyes, looking at his son. “Jack, do you care that Reese is a part of our personal lives now?” Jack shook his head, unbothered by the entire thing. I sighed out of relief, understanding how he had explained things to Jack.

Our waiter came back, a tray of food in his hands. He set everything in front of us and left us to eat. _Thank god. I’m fucking starving._ Aaron reluctantly released me, letting me eat my food in peace. I didn’t eat nearly as fast as I normally did, but I still finished eating before the other two. “You two are really slow. I’m going to be asleep by the time you finish,” I teased, making Jack glare.

Jack swallowed the food in his mouth to shoot back a witty retort. “No. You’re eating like it’s a competition. Us normal people aren’t eating slow.”

I clutched at my chest, being dramatic. “You hurt me,” I said sarcastically.

“Good,” Jack muttered, taking another bite of his burger.

“Like father like son, I guess,” I shot back, rolling my eyes. I got yet another smack to the back of my head. “Hotch. Stop doing that. It’s not funny,” I complained, scowling at him. He laughed, popping a few fries into his mouth and watching me glare at him.

I waited for them to finish eating, laughing and joking the entire time. When the check came, I fought bitterly about paying for my own meal, but I did not get my way. In fact, I got a signature Hotchner glare and a slap on the thigh as a warning not to push it. I rolled my eyes and insulted him under my breath which I’m sure he heard. _That’s going to bite me in the ass later. Oh well. That’s future me’s problem._

**

I entered into Aaron’s apartment after Jack, walking into the living room and watching Jack take off down the hall to do whatever the hell he did with his time. I, however, was unfortunately ambushed and quickly wrestled to ground by Hotch who had already lost his jacket, tie, dress shirt, and shoes. I wriggled underneath Aaron, throwing my arm around his neck and pulling his head down, using some momentum to flip us over. I scrambled to my feet, knowing I wouldn’t be able to keep him pinned to the floor. I moved around the couch, distancing myself from him as he got back to his feet, an evil grin on his face.

“What was that for?” I asked, keeping myself low so that I could swing my weight and get away faster.

“For challenging me to a fight. I told you, I’m not afraid to knock you down a peg. Maybe tonight I’ll teach you how to keep your bratty mouth shut,” he responded, moving towards me but keeping an eye on which way I would go. He stepped forward so I stepped to one side, paying attention so I wouldn’t get pinned back to the floor or any of his furniture.

I smirked at him, defiance sparking inside me like a damn wildfire. “You want me to stop being such a brat? Then _make me_ ,” I challenged, playful defiance dripping from every word that left my mouth. His grin got wider, rising to my challenge. He lunged forward to grab me, but I moved back with ease, maneuvering around his table and waiting to see what he would do next. I moved to the hallway, stepping carefully and looking back to make sure I wouldn’t collide with Jack if he happened to wonder down the hall. The unfortunate part of where I was, was that if I moved much more I would back myself into a corner. My best hope of making it out of this punishment free was to get away and back around the couch where I had space to move. “What happens if you catch me?” I asked, backing up another step to put more distance between us.

“I’m going to put your bratty ass back in your place,” he replied ominously.

“And if you don’t catch me?”

“I’ll suck you off.”

That was good enough for me. I shifted back another sidestep, trying to figure out the best way to get around the couch without getting trapped or grabbed. The best option was simply to gun it and hope for the best. I rushed forward, dodging Aaron’s attempt to grab me and settling in front of the couch, waiting for his next move like this was a game of chess. He stepped the other way, trying to back me into a corner. We did this for a while, moving in a circle. I made the mistake of letting him close too much distance and at his next lunge I backed up into the doorway of his apartment, essentially cornered. “Fuck,” I muttered, knowing he had me right where he wanted me.

“Big mistake, baby boy. This is what? The second bet you’ve made and lost to me?” he asked mockingly. I glared at him, defiant to the very fucking end. “Oh, fuck off, bello,” I spat out defiantly.

He smirked, his eyes darkening with familiar lust and hunger in his eyes. “If I were you, I would stop talking before you regret it even more. You’re not in a position to make deals,” he said, taking a step closer with every word for effect, “you defiant. Stubborn. Bratty little boy.” He put his arms above either side of my shoulders, caging me to the wall, his mouth by my ear, “I’m going to teach you some manners tonight, because that dirty little mouth just doesn’t know when to stop.” His breath was hot against my neck, a shiver working its way down my spine as his vague assertion took effect. I swallowed, my breath hitching slightly as he used his magnificent way with words that would make me do anything he wanted in a fucking instant. He pulled back, his eyes drilling into me with deep ceded lust and hunger, my gaze darting down to my feet as I submitted to him with ease. “Oh, no. No no no, sweetheart. Don’t you dare get all shy now that I’ve got you. You made your choice, now you get to face the consequences of challenging and defying daddy,” he growled, making my defiance and overall brattiness deflate.

He let one of his arms fall away, his entire body pulling back from mine. “I can’t punish you while Jack’s awake and around, but the second I can I’m going to put you back in your place. You aren’t getting out of this, brat. Not unless you tell me right now that you aren’t in the right place in your head to do this. So, tell me: are you, or aren’t you? I’m not upset either way,” he said, his eyes still staring down at me, searching every part of me.

“I’m ok. I can take it,” I answered meekly, my mouth dry. I wanted him to punish me. To prove his unyielding authority and power over me. It was part of the dynamic and pull of our relationship. He smiled darkly, approving of my answer to his question. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he especially enjoyed punishing me when it was like this. Me simply being a smart ass and not something ridiculously serious. He leaned down again to whisper in my ear, “such an eager little slut for punishment. But you always are. Now go put the extra clothes away in my closet and change.” I nodded, mumbling a ‘yes sir’ and moving to do what he told me. I picked up my discarded bag and moved down the hallway to Aaron’s bedroom, throwing my bag on the bed and opening the closet door. I threw a pair of extra shoes on the floor and retrieved some hangers to hang some work clothes. I had taken one of my extra suits, two pairs of slacks, two dress shirts, a turtleneck, and some polos as well as some casual clothes. I put the same array in the end of his closet racks and closed the door, putting on the final pair of sweats I had in my bag. Aaron walked in as I was slipping my shirt on, his hands coming around me and hugging me from behind.

I melted into his touch like I always did. His hand slid under the hem of my shirt, his finger splaying against my stomach. The other moved to grip my waist, holding me to him. I let out a satisfied sigh, relaxing into him and closing my eyes. “You have no idea how hard it was to not fuck you over my desk today,” he said, his words surprising me, “your shy ass writhing and begging quietly while the rest of the office goes about working, all while I was wrecking you on my cock.” I let out a shaky breath at the thought. My cock twitched in my sweats at its agreement with the fantasy. Aaron’s phone rang, essentially ruining the moment and making me groan.

“We have only been back two days. TWO DAYS!” I groaned in complaint, moving out of his arms to put my work clothes back on.

“Hotchner. Yeah. Yeah, I got it. See you in 20 minutes. Recall the others, please. Bye,” Hotch said, hitting the end call button and sighing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next one gets dark again because my life is crazy and I need to subconsciously vent. Thanks for reading, kind stranger :)


	34. Flashback III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy reading everyone!! Also, please be patient with me for the next few weeks. My grandma and my brother have COVID so my writing might slow down a bit. Please, please, please take this stuff seriously. Covid is no joke. Stay safe and stay strong. On with the chapter :)

“Communication is a continual balancing act, juggling the conflicting needs for intimacy and independence. To survive in the world, we have to act in concert with others, but to survive as ourselves, rather than simply cogs in a wheel, we have to act alone.”  
-Deborah Tannen

* * *

_***one year earlier*** _  
**Hotch’s POV**

  
_It was the new kid’s first day. He had met the team; the team wasn’t as skeptical as they usually were with other people as he was younger and newer to the FBI as a whole. He obviously wasn’t someone sent to be a political puppet. He was just a kid with a thirst to prove himself. I couldn’t tell who he was trying to seek approval from, but it was clear that he wanted approval from everyone on the team. He just wanted to prove he was useful and that he wasn’t annoying or overbearing. He wanted to fit into the team dynamic._

_But that’s not what caught my eye. No, no, no. What caught my eye was his how timid he was around me especially. His eyes were screaming at me for approval. You could see it if you knew what you were looking for. He was practically begging for me to approve of him as well as his work. He craved it. It wasn’t hard to see, and it made a part of me smirk arrogantly. While I hadn’t hired him because of my dick, the thoughts and possible opportunities were a definite bonus. I glanced out my window, looking out at the bullpen. Everyone was working. Well, except Reese, but he had good reason. He was getting his shit together in and on his desk and familiarizing himself with his new job. While profiling and working cases were easier to jump into headfirst, paperwork was a whole different animal in this job. The bureaucratic red tape was thicker and there was so much more of it. It would take him a few days to fully transition into his responsibilities. He already had a few consults, among other basic paperwork, but he was trying to get things organized in his desk._

_Organization was probably a sticking point with him. It made sense. He wanted to have as much control over things as he could. He hadn’t had much stability. I knew very little about his past history, but I knew bare minimum that he only had his father growing up. And that it was rough. At least that was what I was assuming from all the sealed files and records that I couldn’t look into. I hadn’t asked Garcia to get into them, though. There wasn’t a reason to at the moment. I watched the young man file things and color code who knows what. The only thing he had on his desktop besides his computer was a black pen holder with a few pens and pencils inside it, and a desk tray. He pushed his drawers closed and pulled a file towards him, looking at the content inside and starting his consult. I watched him look up as Reid spoke to him, offering the new agent a smile and what I could assume was some friendly advice._

_I looked back down at my own paperwork, trying to budget out team expenses and decide what could be added or taken off for the next working quarter. I leaned back in my chair for a moment, pinching the bridge of my nose and sighing, already fed-up with Strauss and her god forsaken political outlook on everything. She was on my back left and right, questioning my decision to pick up a 24-year-old and use him as an asset for our team. She wanted an after-action report after his first case, just to make sure I didn’t hire him for the wrong reasons or some equally frustrating reason. I hated when people questioned my choices as a leader. I knew what I was doing. I had been going at this long enough to know what the team could use as an advantage, and right now that wasn’t an older, arrogant agent who could offer less in 24 hours than Spencer Reid could in 20 minutes. That kid was fresh. He didn’t have an ego that would get in the way of cases or get him into trouble with local departments. And he wouldn’t. Not if I had anything to say about it. I knew that boy would fall all over himself simply to please me, even if I was completely wrong or being absurd. He was a people pleaser, and I was absolutely going to use that to both my advantage, and the team’s._

_A knock on the door took me out of my thoughts. I looked up to find Spencer Reid standing in the doorway with his satchel over his shoulder. I looked at my watch. He was about to go on his lunch break, no doubt._

_“You want to come to lunch with us? We’re taking Reese in hopes of getting to know him better. Mexican food, too,” Spencer asked, waiting expectantly. Usually I would say no, but I figured it would be a good opportunity to see how the team would interact with our newest member. It would be a small vantage point for what the future would look like._

_“Sure,” I said, clicking the end of my pen and setting it down on top of my papers as I stood to take my leave. I made sure I had my wallet and phone, incase we got called away early like so many times before. I followed Reid out, flicking my lights off and shutting the door. The rest of the team was waiting by the elevator, JJ included. They were talking amongst themselves while Reese looked on, standing to the side of everyone awkwardly but making no attempts to speak to anyone. It seemed that he really only spoke when spoken to. He had probably said less than a dozen words since he got here. The elevator dinged and we stepped in, Reese taking the farthest corner in the back of the elevator, his eyes straightforward and unmoving. His hands were in his pockets and he seemed to be tight with anxiety and stress filled tension._

_Dave hit a button on the panel, the doors shutting and the elevator moving. The others were talking about something that wasn’t work related, taking part in their normal banter._

_Morgan was chuckling, going back and forth with Reid about who knows what. “C’mon Reid, let it go. The unsub clearly wasn’t a narcissist. Just let it go,” Morgan said in mock complaint._

_Reid opened his mouth to say something, but he was cut off by Reese who was still pressed into the corner. “Actually, from what you’ve described, the unsub was most likely a narcissist. The problem is that it was masked by another mental disorder. He most likely developed NPD from his environment; constantly receiving excessive criticism, but from what you detailed he most likely had undiagnosed BPD that usually coincides with NPD. The reason you didn’t think he was a narcissist was from other behaviors that overshadowed it. He was undiagnosed because he thought it lowered his mental self-image,” he said nonchalantly, before quickly adding on, “but you are probably right. I’m just stating my opinion. You would know better than I would.”_

_Everyone gazed back at him, looks of shock on their faces. I looked back impassive, hiding my surprise. There was a small shift in his behavior. He was bracing for anger or for harsh criticism. That never came, however. Morgan grinned at him. “Ok, Reid Junior. I see you. Point taken.”_

_Reid was smiling fondly at the younger man; happy someone had come to back him up. “Good job,” Reid mouthed silently to Reese, who was still panicking in the corner of the elevator. A ghost of a small smile appeared on his face, his eyes shifting to meet my gaze before immediately shooting to the floor. The elevator dinged, signaling our arrival to the bottom floor as the doors opened to the lobby of the academy. The team exited, all except Reese who was waiting for me to depart first. I cocked an eyebrow, prompting him to look down at the floor again and exit._

_**_

_I sat beside Prentiss; Reese, Spencer, and JJ across from us. Morgan was next to Prentiss, with Dave on the far end in some family owned Mexican restaurant that had just finished its bigger portion of the lunch rush. We had already ordered, the team engaging in small talk and banter as normal. I simply watched, jumping in on occasion but not saying much. I glanced across from me at Reese, who was looking at everyone, most likely profiling subconsciously. Every time my gaze caught his he immediately looked away. It made that one internal part of me grin all evil like, the thought of dragging this boy back into the restroom and having my way with him all too enticing._

_Prentiss turned her attention away from the team and towards the kid who was still just sitting in silence. “So, Reese. Why the BAU?” she asked, trying to start a conversation while giving the rest of us more to profile. We weren’t supposed to profile each other, but we made an exception for the new members of the team._

_He thought about it for a second, thinking about how to explain his reasoning in some way or another. His words came out somewhat quiet and soft when he spoke, still a little tense and still very shy. “I um… I just like understanding how people think and why they are the way they are. Aiming to make it to this job just became an obvious way to pursue and properly use those interests. It was pretty helpful in the New York office because I could identify the patterns and find and eliminate targets easier. My I.Q. also helped out a little, not that I really like to think that it makes me better or anything,” he said, starting to ramble on out of nervousness until he just stopped, everyone looking at him intently. He swallowed, probably thinking that we were annoyed or that he had said too much._

_Morgan looked over at Reid. “Dude, he’s just like you. Minus the eidetic memory and multitude of PHDs. He really is Reid Junior,” Morgan said, smiling with greater interest._

_Reid was also fairly interested, jumping into his own questions. “And you have an I.Q. of? I know you went to Vanderbilt and have won a few academic merits, even within the undergraduate studies,” Reid said, waiting for an answer. Reid was excited, which was new. He usually never clicked with other people, and now we have someone just like him on the team._

_Reese’s gaze went to his lap, his fingers fidgeting with something in his lap. “182. But I don’t usually talk about it much. It gives people the wrong idea. My last superiors didn’t even know,” he explained quietly. That sent a surge of satisfaction through me. It pleased me to no end to know that this kid didn’t like to come off as a big shot. Not someone who needed to be knocked down a few steps because they couldn’t keep their ego in check. It was a refreshing change of pace from other agents who wanted to make a bigger name for themselves. Reese looked up at me through his lashes before looking back down; gauging my reaction, seeking my approval, and taking pleasure in my satisfaction of him. **I am dangerously close to claiming this boy in the bathroom of this god damn restaurant.**_

_Reese’s face quickly twisted into confusion. “Wait, you read my papers that won me academic merits and achievements? I never would have expected someone as respected as you in our field to have read my papers,” Reese said, his eyes full of wonder as he met Reid’s gaze._

_Reid smiled, “I read a lot. It was a good paper. Well thought out and well written.”_

_“Thank you. It’s an honor,” Reese replied, a small smile on his innocent face._

_Morgan waved it off, deciding to ask another question. “Alright next question. Why Vanderbilt and the FBI? That’s impressive. You must have had a lot of other opportunities after graduating.”_

_Reese’s behavior shifted again, ever so slightly. He swallowed, trying to form a sentence that was appropriate for the question. “I went to Vanderbilt on scholarship when I was 16 because I graduated high school early. I had worked myself half to death to get away from home. I decided on the FBI because it gave me a way to pursue my interests, make money, and screw over terrible people all at the same time. It just made the most sense at the time,” he explained, his voice filled with unspoken tension._

_Our waitress came back, handing out the food. Everyone dug into their meals, the conversations winding down while we ate, knowing that we could be called away any second. After a few minutes I glanced up, looking at Reese who was watching everyone else, his plate clean. Morgan also took notice, commenting on it immediately. “Jesus kid. Were you a competitive eater or something?” Reese just shook his head no, blushing at the question. Everyone went back to eating, letting it go because it obviously made the kid uncomfortable._

_**_

_There was a soft knock on my office door, making me look up and ordering the person to come in. I already knew who it was. Reese knocked lightly on the door as to not disturb me, as though he would make me angry. I leaned back in my chair, waiting patiently for an explanation as to why he was in my office. He didn’t look up me as he walked over with what looked to be some consults and some paperwork. **Still so timid. Still not brave enough to look me in the eyes, but still so hungry for my simple approval.** He moved over to the edge of my desk with caution, barely glancing up to look at me. He was still nervous being around me. I wanted to move to where he was standing and run my fingers through his hair before forcing him to his knees. I wanted him kneeling while I forced him to look me dead in the eyes, unable to move away from my gaze._

_“Reid said that you needed to look over a copy of the consult and that you needed these papers,” he said, handing them to me._

_I looked over them, nodding and looking up at him, waiting for him to say something else. He didn’t speak. He just waited there awkwardly; waiting for me to instruct him or wave him off. “Yes. You need to file these with Garcia as well,” I told him, pressing my pen to one of the papers and signing it._

_He looked confused by what I told him when I looked back up. “Um, w-who is Garcia, s-sir?” he asked, stuttering a bit. I stood, deciding now would be the time to introduce the two. Garcia was drowning in work, so I hadn’t bothered her with introductions. It made it easier for the both of us, but I knew Garcia would be excited to meet him. I walked around my desk, making him back up and move out of my path. I paused, looking at him. “Come on. I’ll introduce you to her. She’s our technical analyst,” I said, gesturing him out of the door. He seemed to hesitate, making me cock an eyebrow in silent question and urging him to walk out the door. He scrambled to get out the door when he glanced up to find me looking at him somewhat sternly. **That’s it. Don’t test me, little boy.** I followed him out the door, taking him to meet Garcia and get fully acquainted with his job._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)


	35. Shattered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team is shocked when something from a past case returns to haunt them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy reading

“So then learn to conquer your fear. This is the only art we have to master nowadays; to look at things without fear, and to fearlessly do right.”  
-Friedrich Durrenmatt

* * *

I got called next, answering my recall with a brisk, “Benson.” JJ’s voice came through the receiver, my phone tucked between my shoulder and my ear while I pulled my discarded jeans and turtleneck back on. “We have a new case… er, sort of anyway. We need you back here as quick as possible,” she said, her voice quick and unwavering as she prepared case files.

“Alright. I’ll be there in… 15-20 minutes. Bye JJ,” I said, letting her hang up before dropping my phone on the bed. I looked over at Aaron who was waiting in the door jam for me to change. “Guess I lucked out on the ole’ punishment fuck, huh?” I asked, trying to hold on to some semblance of intimacy before it was soured and taken over by professionalism.

He smiled at that, shaking his head. “Oh no, you didn’t luck out. It simply means its been postponed,” he said, straightening and taking a step towards me, “you still have to answer for your bratty behavior.” He was stepping towards me, power and dominance exuding from every inch of him. I stepped back, trying to put distance between us. “I’m not going to let you off that easy,” he said, taking yet another step forward, causing me to step back and collide with the wall. He stepped forward again, caging me in between his arms like earlier, his mouth dangerously close to my ear. “You seem to forget; I have more experience taming bratty little boys like you than you do being a brat. You don’t get out of punishments just because something comes up in the middle of it. But if you are a good boy and behave while we are working, maybe, just maybe, I’ll go a little easier on you when we get back,” he growled out, making my breath hitch in the back of my throat.

He hummed, his humming turning into a small, evil, seductive laugh that sounded like sex and sin, in a league all of its own. My cock twitched in my jeans, need beginning to coil inside me at the unresolved sexual tension between us. “I haven’t even touched you and you’re already hot and bothered. But that’s all you need, isn’t it sweetheart? I could make you cum just from talking dirty to you. Do you want that, hm?” he asked, one of his hands capturing my wrists and pinning them against the wall above my head, “I bet you do. I bet if I did it really well, you would beg me for it. You would beg me to leave you untouched so that you could prove that you’re mine by cumming from only my words.” I shivered, my breathing getting somewhat faster, my cock hardening further in my jeans. He pulled away at once, leaving me half hard and needy against the wall. “Let’s go. We have work to do,” he ordered, shifting away from the dominant, sinfully sexual man to the stern, stoic unit chief he was on the clock.

* * *

JJ was waiting by Hotch’s office when Hotch and I vacated the elevator. The others were already waiting in the conference room, talking among one another it seemed. I walked past JJ, leaving Hotch and JJ to talk about whatever JJ deemed important about this case. I waved as I walked in the conference room, Derek and Emily telling me hey while Spencer was going over the file. I was extremely confused as I counted files, noticing one was missing.

“Why are there only 7 files here? There are 8 of us. Did JJ or Hotch already take theirs?” I asked, taking a seat.

Hotch’s voice startled me. “Benson, can you step out for a minute please?” he asked, his voice telling me it was more of a demand. I got back up, looking at him with immense confusion. I stood there for a moment, panic gripping me just slightly. Hotch cocked his eyebrows, prompting me to step out like he had ordered. I left the room, walking down the stairs to sit at my desk chair. I pulled a case file from my tray, taking a pen and starting to write out information for a report. It was hard to focus, my mind glued to what was going on in the conference room. _Am I being fired? What’s going on? Is Hotch mad? Did I do something? I thought we had figured out the whole Seattle situation. Oh god. Good job Reese. Now you’re going to get fired because you couldn’t get it together. Great fucking job! Fucking wonderful!_

My leg was bouncing under my desk, my entire body restless and on edge. I had no idea what was going on and it didn’t look good. I twirled the pen in my hand, trying to figure out how I wanted to explain something, but ultimately unable from how interrupted my thoughts were. I was preoccupied and focusing was impossible. JJ’s voice pulled me from the thoughts at the back of my mind. “Reese. Come on.”

I got up, practically rushing into the conference room. I was confused by the looks of worry on the faces of my coworkers, all of them trying to look normal. It wasn’t working. At all. That sent even more panic through me, making me unnerved. Hotch gestured for me to sit down but I stayed standing. “I’d prefer to stand. What’s going on? Why is everyone looking like they just saw a ghost or something?” I asked, my voice laced with my apparent panic. Garcia glanced over at Hotch, waiting for him to give her the go ahead to start the briefing. Hotch nodded, a somber look taking over his facial features. _He’s showing emotions. That can’t be good. Oh no. Ohhh no. What did you do, kid? What could you have done? Think, Reese, think. Fucking think._

Garcia took a deep breath and cleared her throat, going into the detailed of our latest case. She didn’t sound like her normal perky self, which added to my further panic and dismay. “Last night, this man,” she began, clicking her remote to reveal a picture on the flat screen, “Walter Webb, escaped from a federal prison transport. This was found in his cell when it was searched shortly after his escape. He is still on the loose.” I looked closely at the images, my eyes widening when I saw what was on the screen. The man know as Walter Webb was the man who had held me hostage in a concrete room for 6 days while raping and violating me. The second picture was a picture of me from some article as well as a note.

_I will find him. I will make him mine again. I own him. No one will stop me. I will search endlessly until I find my lost boy. He. Is. Mine. I will find you again, Little One. I will find you and bring you home._

I stared in horror, shock and fear gripping me as my panic rose. My heart was pounding in my chest, my body shaking violently as I looked at the screen, unable to pull my gaze from the screen. “Reese, are you alright?” Emily asked cautiously. I didn’t reply, my eyes locked on the pictures, my mouth wide open from shock. I felt sick, a wave of terror-filled nausea rising in my gut and throat. My throat tightened, working too hard on taking in air. I felt like passing out, but I didn’t move. I was frozen to the spot.

“Kid?” Derek asked, trying again. Again, I didn’t respond, too taken aback by the news I had just received moments earlier. I blinked, still processing. Memories came back to me, hitting me like a blow. The small amount of stability I had built back in the past few months, shattered. It shattered like a piece of glass hitting the floor, breaking into a thousand little pieces that you couldn’t glue back together. Then it seized me. The blackness seized me, pulling me into the abyss as I passed out, my body going limp and hitting the floor with a thud.

**

My eyes blinked open, the pain in my skull becoming more and more prominent as I woke from my slumber. I felt dazed and confused, but not in a good way. Not in the way I wish I was. The light in the room was dim, lamps illuminating the small, tidy space. My thoughts were suddenly filled with ‘where am I?’, my head trying to piece the course of events that had unfolded together in some form or fashion. It didn’t get me very far. I closed my eyes again, my head feeling like it was about to split open any second. Aaron’s deep, smooth voice interjected with the silence, making me open my eyes yet again. “Hey. How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice and demeanor as gentle as ever.

The sudden urge to cry ran through me, my eyes fighting back tears as my throat tightened. I had passed out when they told me that the man had escaped and was now looking for me. Trying to find me to ‘claim me’ once more. I was terrified out of my mind, fear working its way up my spine and seeping into every thought. I opened my mouth to speak but no sound came out. Nothing came out so I shut my mouth again, gazing at Aaron in horror and in terror, continually haunted by the nightmare that is my life. My lungs burned with the need to cry, emotions screaming to be let out of their boxes. I tried speaking again, my voice laced with broken confusion and utter panic. “H-he’s actually free? He’s free and l-looking for m-me?”

Aaron was in a chair next to me, crouched with his arms against his thighs as he looked at me with concern. He nodded, his eyes weary with concern and terror of his own. I was on the couch in his office, my head resting against the arm rest. I looked to see if the door was closed and if the blinds were pulled shut. They were, so I turned my attention back to Aaron. “C-can you hold me?” I asked, my voice a cracked, hoarse whisper.

“Of course, baby boy. Here, let me sit on the couch,” he said, standing and moving my legs so that he could sit on the couch. I swung my legs, shifting my body so that I was facing him. I peered up at him as though he was going to suddenly change his mind, scooting over to him and climbing into his lap. My forehead rested against his shoulder, my body shuddering as a sob escaped me, tears finally flowing. One of his arms were wrapped around me, holding me to him; the other holding the back of my head and stroking through my hair as I cried into his collar like a child. I was too terrified to feel embarrassed in this moment, clinging to him tightly as I sobbed. I was scared. Full force scared out of my mind. “You’re ok. You’re going to be ok. I’m here. I’ve got you, baby, I promise. We’re going to find him, and everything will go back to normal,” he murmured, his lips in my hair, his body rocking mine in an attempt to calm me down.

I was too scared to believe him. I was too terrified. The emotions and painful memories still too fresh on my mind. I didn’t say anything, but I knew Aaron could tell I didn’t believe what he said. He was a profiler, and a damn good one at that. “He’s not going to be able to hurt you. I won’t let him. He’ll have to kill me to get to you. I’m going to keep you safe, baby boy. I promise you that,” he said, his tone gentle but deadly serious. He meant what he said, especially after Texas. He still felt guilty for what had happened, no matter how often I told him it wasn’t his fault. I just sobbed; sobbing until I physically couldn’t anymore, eventually just shaking and breathing heavily in his lap. I felt sick. I felt sick and dirty. So unbelievably dirty. “Do you have any Tylenol? My head hurts,” I asked quietly, my face tucked into the crook of his neck.

“Yeah, but I have to get up to get it. It’s in my desk. And I’ll have to get you a bottle of water. You can still sit in my lap if you want, though,” he replied, trying to make sure I wouldn’t panic. I just nodded, reluctantly clambering off his lap and sitting on the couch. I noticed my shoes were off as to not mess up the upholstery of the couch. “I’m going to get you a bottle of water, ok?” he said, moving to the door. I nodded, curling up at the far end of the couch and watching him exit the room. My eyelids felt heavy, the dull ache in my head driving me up the god damn wall. It really wasn’t helping the situation. Aaron came back a minute later, closing the door quietly and retrieving the Tylenol from his desk. “Here,” he said, handing me a small blue and red pill and the bottle of water. I took them both, knocking back the pill and draining half of the water bottle before handing it back to him. He set screwed the cap back on and set it on the floor next to the couch. He sat back down, patting his lap in silent invitation for me to climb in it and nuzzle into him. I obliged, climbing back into his lap and resuming my old position in his lap. I was sideways, my legs over the draped over his thighs.

“Why am I in here?” I asked quietly, my voice barely audible.

“You passed out due to shock and didn’t wake up after a few minutes. Reid said that the shock and intense emotions caused an intense amount of stress, essentially knocking you out. He said you would wake up eventually and simply to let you sleep. Morgan helped me carry you in here and we let you sleep on the couch. You were out for almost half an hour,” he explained calmly. I felt anything but calm, I was just too tired and overwhelmed to show it. He went on after a moment’s pause. “I want you to stay at my apartment for the time being. If he is looking for you, there’s a chance he will find your address. I just want to keep you safe…” he said, trailing off.

“Ok. Can I grab some clothes and stuff from my apartment?” I asked.

He nodded. “Of course. We will find him. I won’t let that man go free after what he did to you.” I just nodded, unsure of whether I was convincing him or more self that was true. “The team is working, but if you want to go home and just rest for a day or two you can. I’ll stay home with you, too. It’s not a good idea for you to be alone right now.” I wanted to accept his offer, but I also wanted to work the case. A small, dark part of me wanted revenge. Revenge for the victims his tortured and violated and murdered. For what he had done to me. For the psychological nightmare he had put my team through, rushing to find me under extreme duress. I wanted to hurt him. To destroy him like he had destroyed me. But I knew I couldn’t do that. No matter how much I wanted to. The only thing I could do was catch him and toss him back into another cage.

I decided that I needed a day or two to get my thoughts together. I would only get in the way. Hell, I hadn’t even had the courage to request a copy of the Texas case file, too afraid of what I might read or see. “Do you need to finish the workday out? I can try and get some work done and then just stay home tomorrow. I know Strauss has been up your ass about things lately,” I said quietly, not wanting to interrupt his work because of my problems.

“I can work from home. I don’t have any meetings this week and I can take files home. We can stop by your apartment on the way back,” he replied.

“Does the team know I’ll be staying with you?” I asked.

“Yes. They agreed that it would be a good idea. While it’s highly unlikely that he would find your address, we still don’t want to risk it. I worked it all out so that you wouldn’t have to worry about it,” he explained, calming my emerging anxiety about possible scandal. “I just need to get some things together and then we can leave.” I shifted back off of his lap, letting him up and watching him gather his things. I sat up straight, grabbing my shoes and pulling them on while he went about his office gathering files and papers of all sorts. I stood, stretching slightly and trying to balance myself. My head was throbbing, making me somewhat dizzy and messing with my vision. “I’m going to get some stuff from my desk,” I said, walking towards the door, blinking profusely as I forced my eyes to focus.

He sighed, looking at me with immense disapproval. “You don’t need to work while you’re at home. You need to rest and to get your head together. You’re going to make yourself sick.” I waved him off, my stubbornness peaking through yet again. I opened the door, walking out into the bullpen where Emily, Derek, JJ, Garcia, and Spencer were all talking to one another.  
“Reese! How are you feeling? Are you going to be ok?” Garcia asked frantically.

I grimaced, the loud noise making my head throb even more. “I’m going home for the day. I won’t be much help around here anyways. I’m just grabbing some other files to work on while I’m out of the office,” I explained, dropping into my desk chair and pulling files from my tray.

“Are you sure you’re going to want to work? You really should be resting,” JJ said pointedly. I waved her off as I did Hotch, not in the mood for more suggestions of what I should and shouldn’t be doing.

“JJ’s right, kid. You don’t need to be working right now. Just get some rest. We can handle it,” Derek said, taking JJ’s side.

“And I really think you guys should lay off,” I hissed, my patience and temper short and oh so apparent in my words. “I never implied that you guys couldn’t handle the workload. I’m not going to put my job on hold because an unsub is out and about. That would be ridiculous.” I swiped my car keys off the desktop, standing with my files and walking briskly to the elevator. I could feel the team watching me leave, tension and concern hanging in the air. I didn’t care. My thoughts were too jumbled up for me to care. I was too preoccupied. I hit the call button, waiting for the elevator to open. It opened and I stepped in, the car vacant. I didn’t wait for Aaron, I needed to be alone for a few minutes anyways. I just needed to get away from the expectations and opinions of other people. I needed some solitude. Just for a few minutes. I stepped into the lobby, walking across the linoleum floor to the parking lot, the air cold against my skin. I clicked my key fob, the lights of my car flashing to signal it was unlocked. I opened the door roughly, dropping the files into the passenger seat and starting the car.

_Me: I’ll meet you at my apartment. I need to be alone for a few minutes and I need to drive anyways. This car can’t sit and collect dust forever. See you in a few minutes._

I put my phone on do not disturb and hit shuffle on my Arctic Monkeys playlist, the song “I Wanna Be Yours” playing through the car’s speakers. I pulled out of the parking lot, my brain driving on autopilot as the music took me away. Alex Turner’s sinful voice was serenading me while I tried to ignore the train wreck that was my life. The stars were still brighter than ever, the time reading 12:57am. I felt exhausted, too many things dragging me down in the dark abyss of depression and self-hatred.

_**“Secrets I have held in my heart, are harder to hide than I thought. Maybe I just wanna be yours, wanna be yours.”** _

There wasn’t very much traffic until I got to D.C. I wasn’t surprised by that, though. The city was almost always busy. I decided to make a quick detour, turning at the next intersection, taking me to a nearby corner store. I parallel parked, stepping out onto the street that was still damp with rain. I walked down to the corner, stepping into a small drug store and waiting in line behind one of the counters. The old woman in front of me grabbed her bag, stepping away so that I could place items on the counter. I pulled a lighter from a small shelf under the lip of the counter and set it down. I pointed to the wall of tobacco and nicotine products behind the cashier who looked high out of his mind. “One pack of Marlboros, please,” I said, the man turning and grabbing a pack and setting it down on the counter.

“ID?” he asked. I pulled out my ID, letting him check the date and give it back. I payed for my items, snatching them off the counter and walking out to get back in my car. I wanted to take one more detour before I met Aaron at my apartment. I drove for a few minutes, essentially driving back out of D.C. I made it to the more industrial side, parking in a vacant lot and entering an abandoned warehouse. I climbed until I got to the roof access, stepping on to the roof and looking at the lights of the city below my feet. I opened the pack of cigarettes, putting one in my mouth and lighting it with deft fingers. I took a long draw, breathing in the smoke and exhaling. I didn’t smoke often, but I felt like it was warranted given the current events of the night. The air was cool and crisp, making me shiver. I decided to put my earbuds in, replayed the song “I Wanna Be Yours.”

I sat up on the roof for a few minutes, finishing my cigarette and looking down at the city and all the lights. It was serene and peaceful. A major contrast from my normal life that was often confusing and chaotic. I felt as though I wasn’t real in that moment. As though I was living inside a photograph or a movie. I dropped my cigarette butt, crushing it beneath my heel and climbing back down to make the drive to my apartment.

It only took me ten minutes to get there. Aaron was pacing in the lobby, tense and uneasy. I sighed, knowing that he was upset that didn’t come straight to my apartment and that I didn’t tell him where I was going or what I was doing. I pulled open the door of my building, sauntering over to the frustrated man that was still pacing around the lobby. “Hey,” I said, approaching him nonchalantly.

“Where the hell were you?” he asked, concern seeping into his cold tone of voice.

“I stopped to get some cigarettes and then had a smoke on the roof of a warehouse while I looked at the lights of the city. No need to freak out,” I said, my voice equally as cold. I didn’t want to be interrogated or chastised. I just wanted to live my life. No questions asked. No stupid expectations or consequences for the simplest things.

“No need to freak out?” he mimicked, anger rising in his voice, “there is a man on the loose that is looking for you, and you disappear just to say no need to freak out? You need to tell me when you decide to take detours and make new plans. That way I know your safe.”

I just rolled my eyes and walked over to the elevator, hitting the call button and waiting for the elevator. Cory exited, nearly walking headfirst into me. “Hey Reese!” he said, walking around me and going about his night.

“Hey Cory.” I stepped into the now vacant car, holding the door for Aaron and letting him step in with me. I hit the button for my floor and leaned into the wall, shutting my eyes and sighing out of exhaustion and frustration. We rode to my floor in silence, not speaking until we were in my apartment. I flicked on the lights, walking over to my couch and flopping face first on to it, kicking off my shoes. For once I actually wanted to be here alone. I wanted everyone else to go away. To just leave me alone to think for a while. To make sense of where things went wrong and why I am the way I am. Why things have happened the way they have. It didn’t make sense to me, and I wanted to understand. I wanted to look back and see if there was a time where maybe things would have been different if I didn’t do this or that. I wished things were different. That I was different. That everything was just… different.

“Reese… are you ok?” Aaron asked, cautious as he asked.

I lifted my head up, scoffing in frustration. “I got kidnapped a month ago and the man who did is free and looking for me. I want to get drunk and for you to fuck off. So, how do you think it’s going?” I snapped, frustrated and somewhat angry. I didn’t know why I was angry. I just was. It seemed like the appropriate response to everything that was happening. I suddenly felt guilty, knowing that he was simply worried about me and wanted me to be safe. _Good job, dumbass. Such a fucking idiot._ “Sorry. You don’t deserve to get kicked because of my problems. You didn’t do anything wrong,” I amended quickly, trying to keep it together.

I turned over, sitting up and pulling the cigarettes out of my back pocket. I took one out of the box, putting one in my mouth and lighting it, tossing the box on my coffee table and taking a long draw on it. I sighed as I exhaled, my feelings and thoughts all kinds of scrambled as I sat there in the tense silence that surround me and the other man in the room. I got up, walking over to the cabinet under my T.V. and searching for a small ceramic ash tray. I found it, setting it on the coffee table as I sat back down. I flicked the ashes into the tray and took another puff on the cigarette, the smell of smoke strong in my nostrils. I didn’t help my headache, but I didn’t care. Aaron came around the back of the couch, settling on the opposite end. I glanced over at him, my eyes tired and slightly red from the smoke irritating my eyes. Being tired and all the crying didn’t do me very much justice either.

“I have a bottle of scotch at my place. If you get your things together, we can drink and hold each other on the couch in the semi-darkness and listen to music,” Aaron offered.

I gave him a small, pain filled laugh. “That sounds great considering the mood. I’ll get my shit together. Do you want to drive separate or together?” I asked, trying to have a game plan moving forward.

“Separate. That way you can have your car if you need it. We can get you a parking pass for my buildings garage later.”

I nodded, putting out my cigarette and getting up reluctantly. I moved into my bedroom, pulling out a duffel bag and throwing clothes and personal items into it. It wasn’t much. Just casual clothes and work clothes as well as toiletries. I got one of my backpacks to throw my laptop and other home-office things in just in case I needed them. I made sure I had everything before stepping back into my living room. I paused, setting my bags down and going over to Aaron who was still sitting on my couch, his eyes closed. I climbed gently into his lap, tucking my head into the crook of his neck, listening to his breathing and feeling his heartbeat beneath my palm. He let out a deep exhalation, his arms coming around me as we sat holding each other, the room silent besides our breathing.

After a moment he spoke, not opening his eyes. “You know I love you, right?” he asked, the question catching me a little off guard.

I nodded, “yeah. I know. I’m sorry for being an asshole earlier. I just… I wasn’t thinking when I decided to just drive and look at the city. I was listening to a slow song and just enjoying a moment of peace. I just needed to get away for a few minutes.”

“It’s ok. Just tell me next time so I don’t get worried. I almost called Garcia and tracked you down. I just want to make sure you are safe. If something happened under my watch, again nonetheless, I would never forgive myself,” he said, explaining his thoughts on the whole ordeal. I nodded, accepting his request and kissing his neck. I started trailing kisses up to his jawline, licking and nipping softly at his skin. I shifted, straddling his hips and holding his shoulders as I continued up to the shell of his ear. I moved on of my hands down, skimming down his dress shirt until I was cupping his growing erection. His breath hissed out from between his teeth as I stroked him deftly through his slacks. I used my other hand to start unbuttoning his dress shirt, exposing his chest. I leaned back, turning and grabbing the remote, turning on the T.V. and connecting my phone to it. I hit play on the song “I Wanna Be Yours” and put it on repeat, deciding I wanted to fuck him to this song right the fuck now.

I tossed the remote and my phone to the side, resuming what I was doing. He leaned forward, shrugging out of his jacket and shirt and tossing them to the side. I pulled back again, slowly unbuttoning the second button on my polo and pulling it over my head slowly, letting him get a damn good look of my abs and chest. He let out an appreciative groan, his fingers tracing up my abs gently. I tossed my shirt, joining his clothes in the pile on the couch. I pushed back forward, kissing his jawline again, moving down his neck to his collar bone and nipping at it, leaving a small mark. My hand was still stroking him through his slacks, his cock fully hard and straining against the material of pants. I straightened up, looking him dead in the eyes as I unbuttoned and unzipped his slacks, reaching into his boxer briefs and freeing his erection. I leaned down and kissed him on the mouth before slipping down off of his lap and in between his legs on the floor.

“Can I?” I asked, looking up at him in the dim light of the apartment. He had turned the lamps on and turned off the overhead lights.

“Yes. Please,” he said, already breathing some what quickly. I took the tip of his cock in my mouth, one of my hands fisting around the base and teasing him as I lightly stroked him. I licked the head, moving down his cock and leaving a line of saliva down his shaft, my movements slow and methodical. “God,” he breathed, his head dropping back against the couch. I licked back to the tip, licking over the slit and then taking it back in my mouth, sucking gently. I took more of him in my mouth, bobbing my head slightly and moving my hand in time. I wasn’t moving fast or sucking him very hard, but he seemed to be enjoying it, his breathing getting heavier and a few groans escaping his throat. I moved back up, licking the slit as precum leaked from him, taking him back in mouth yet again. I took him deeper this time, gagging a little as I took him back into my throat. I held myself there for a few seconds and then pulled off, licking down his shaft and taking in a deep breath.

One of his hands tangled in my hair, gripping lightly as I took him to the back of my throat again. “God… please. That feels… so damn good,” he said, his words laced with pleasure and arousal. I popped off again, looking up at him and murmuring the words of the song in time as they were sung. “I wanna be yours,” I sang, licking up the shaft of his cock again. I sucked him once again, holding myself on his throbbing cock for a few seconds and pulling off. Repeating this until he was close to cumming. “I’m going to cum,” he said, panting as he watched me suck him to no tomorrow, soft and sweet and slow.

“Cum in my mouth,” I ordered, taking him down my throat and swallowing as he came with a groan of my name. A surge of satisfaction passed through me, licking up him as he slipped into a post-orgasmic high.

He panted, letting go of my hair so that I could straddle his hips again. I kissed him, letting him taste himself off my tongue. I was hard, my own cock straining against my jeans. I pulled back, resting my forehead against his as we caught our breath. “You’re such a good boy,” he whispered, cupping me through my jeans and stroking me slowly. I let out a ragged breath, grinding into his palm. His fingers undid my belt and unbuttoned my jeans, his fingers slowly pulling the zipper down. He pulled out my cock, squeezing the tip and making me moan, my head dropping onto his shoulder. His mouth was at my ear, softly biting the lobe and kissing down the side of my neck. “Do you want to cum, baby boy? You want me to stroke you nice and slow until you cum for me, hm?” he asked softly, drawing a low moan from me.

“Yes, please…” I breathed, grinding into his hand as he stroked me slowly. He took his hand away, spitting into his palm before resuming his slow, methodical strokes. I thrust into his strokes slowly, timing them just right. He started whispering small words of praise, getting me closer and closer to orgasm, his voice and the music taking over everything in that moment. Distracting me from all the fucked up and broken in my dark little world. “Such a good boy… you sucked my cock so well… always so good, so perfect. That’s it. Thrust into my hand just like that. I want you to cum for me. Can you do that? Can you be a good boy and cum for daddy?” I nodded fiercely, my eyelids heavy with arousal and lust and need. I wanted to stay in this moment for a long time. Simply being held and praised and sharing an intimate side of myself with someone else after the rollercoaster of day I had. I came with a groan, my breathing coming out in small pants, my head against Aaron’s shoulder. “Good boy. Such a good boy for daddy. Always so obedient. You did so well, sweetheart. You were such a good boy for me,” he said, his words soft and gentle as I slumped against him.

“I… really needed that,” I breathed, trying to slow my breathing as I let the high take over me.

“I know you did. I’ll take care of you. I always will. You took care of me too, you filthy little slut,” he teased, bringing his cum covered fingers to his mouth and sucking my cum off.

I laughed, “I prefer whore, but same difference I guess.” He laughed at that too, his mouth catching mine and kissing me softly.

“Come on. We need some rest and Jessica is still at home with Jack,” he said. I got off him, pulling my shirt back on and shifting back into reality. There was a man on the loose, and I was going to catch him if it was the last thing I did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Give the song that inspired this chapter a listen!! It’s so good. It’s called “I wanna be yours” by Arctic Monkeys. Lemme tell u, I wanna slow dance to that song at midnight with someone.


	36. Contrast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “One moment you’re a bratty little cockslut, eager to take my cock; the next you’re a shy, touch-starved submissive, blushing at every little comment I make. One moment you’re snarking off for me to make you, the next you’re begging and pleading and calling me daddy. It’s such a contrast,” he said in a confident whisper, nipping at my neck and looking at me in the mirror while I buckled my belt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy reading! This is basically just sex before I jump back into the heavy stuff. My life has been stressful so let's fix it by writing smut between two fictional characters! Whoo hoo!
> 
> And thank you guys, gals, and non-binary pals for being so supportive. You people rock :)

“The dead cannot cry out for justice. It is a duty of the living to do so for them.”  
-Lois McMaster Bujold

* * *

I pulled my shirt back on, buttoning the second button and leaving my collar open at the throat. I watched Aaron pull his dress shirt on, my eyes watching his fingers button it deftly. I licked my bottom lip, trying not to get hard at the thought of him fingering me before fucking me over the arm of my couch. I picked up the pack of cigarettes, shoving them into my back pocket for later. I picked up the ash tray, moving into my kitchen and dumping the contents into my trashcan so that I could have an ash tray for Aaron’s apartment. I didn’t plan on smoking in his home, but it was always a good idea to be prepared. I walked back into my living room, picking up my backpack and moving to my desk to set it in my chair while I packed up my stuff. I shoved in my laptop and charger and a few other things. I looked around the room, trying to make sure I had everything. When I was satisfied, I joined Aaron back on the couch, turning off the music and pulling my shoes back on.

“Come straight to my apartment. No more detours, unless you want to wear my handprint on your ass for a few days,” he said, his demeanor as dominant as ever.

I scowled at him. “I just seduced you on my couch and sucked you off and you’re already threatening to spank me? For once I deserve a pass,” I muttered in mock complaint. It wouldn’t be much of a punishment anyway. I enjoyed writhing over his lap and then getting fucked to no tomorrow.

He gave me a wolfish grin, his eyes glimmering with dark sexual hunger and intense, calculated dominance. He stood, stepping in front of me and tilting my chin up with his fingers, forcing me to look up at him. He leaned down so that he was only a few inches from my face, his eyes burning with immense power and passion, my eyes never leaving his as he spoke. “You don’t get to decide what you do and don’t deserve. If I decide that you are being an insolent little brat, I’ll put you over my knee and spank you until you’ve learned your lesson. If I decide you’ve been good and deserve a reward, I’ll let you cum while I fuck you into my damn mattress. If I decide I want to tease you, I’ll edge you while you have a plug in that tight ass of yours and make you beg and cry for my cock to be inside you. _I_ decide what you deserve. Not you. Don’t you _ever_ forget that, or I’ll you’ll be begging for forgiveness by the time I’m done with you,” he asserted, making me swallow and nod, my chin still gripped between his fingers. “Words,” he growled, “use your _words_ , baby boy.”

My tongue darted out to wet my bottom lip, my pupils dilating as his words took their effect. “Y-yes sir, I understand,” I stuttered out, my mind scrambled from how damn erotic his litany of words were. He was right. If he wanted to, he could hold me against a wall and just talk shit in my ear and I would cum without him even touched me.

“Hm… I don’t think you do, slut. I think I need to remind you who the fuck you belong to,” he asserted darkly, cold authority radiating from him with every word. I didn’t dare pull my head back out of his grip, no matter how much I wanted to. His fingers released my chin, sliding up and into my hair, gripping it by the roots and yanking me roughly to my feet. My head was tilted as he walked me over to arm of my couch, standing in front of it, his cock pressed into my ass and lower back. He let go of my hair, his hands coming around my waist and undoing my belt, yanking my pants down below my ass, my cock still trapped in the material. His hands slid up, unbuttoning my shirt again and pulling it off me. His hand then went between my shoulder blades, pushing me down and folding me over the arm of the couch, my ass propped up so that he had perfect access to me. “Stay here. I need to get some lube.”

I heard him walk down the hall, opening my nightstand drawer and shutting it before returning to stand behind me. He set the lube down on the coffee table, the metallic sound of his belt filling the living room. I was already fully hard again, need coiling inside me as my cock throbbed and pulsed in the material of my pants. He picked the lube up, snapping the cap open and pulling my cheeks apart, one of his fingers slicking my entrance. I let out a deep breath, my hips pushing back just barely as he pushed his finger inside me. He smacked my ass, making me jump a little. He folded over me, his mouth at my ear. “I never gave you permission to move. Don’t you dare move anymore or I won’t fuck you at all. I’ll force you on your knees and jack off in front of you, leaving you hard and aching to cum. Don’t you dare cum, either,” he whispered harshly, his mouth traveling down my shoulder and back as he stood back up.

He pushed another finger inside me, scissoring them and stretching me open. He quickly added a third, the burn taking over for a few seconds before dissipating before disappearing. Once I was stretched open, he pulled his finger out, the lube snapping open again as he lubed his cock, closing the bottle and putting it on the coffee table. “I’m going to fuck you now,” he announced, his dick sliding inside me in one hard thrust. I grunted as he pushed in all the way, holding himself there and bottoming out before pulling back and slamming back into me. He slowed for a second, folding back over me, his breath hot on my ear. “Color?” he asked, gauging where my head was at.

“Green. Green. Please… just fuck me,” I said breathlessly, needing him to wreck me on his cock.

“I plan on it, slut. Brace yourself,” he ordered, his hands gripping my shoulder so that he could pull me down as he thrust into me. His next thrust had his cock slamming into my prostate, making me damn near scream his name as he fucked into me relentlessly. “That’s it, baby. Scream for me. Scream while I wreck your tight ass on my cock. I want to fuck you so hard you’re going to need me to help you walk tomorrow,” he snapped out, his voice deep and rough as his hips snapped into me. “God, your so damn tight. Such a tight, dirty fucking whore for me. You take my cock so well, don’t you? This is when you’re at your best; taking my cock and moaning and screaming and begging for me, you filthy little cockslut.”

I was moaning like a whore as he pounded into me, hitting my sweet spot again and again and again. I was ridiculously close, his cock sinking into me hard and fast. “I’m gonna cum,” I said, breathing hard as he fucked me roughly against the arm of my couch.

“Don’t even think about cumming, whore. Hold back,” he demanded, his voice rough as he thrust in again, making me let out a small scream on a particularly skillful stroke.

“I can’t. You need to slow down if you want me to hold it,” I said, earning me a hard smack on the ass.

He leaned back over me, his hips still driving his cock deep inside me. “I think you can take it. I told you to hold back and you will, unless you want me to stop,” he taunted, stopping with his dick inside me all the way to the hilt, “I’ve told you time and time again. You need to learn your place, so either I fuck you at my pace or I pull out and get myself off and leave you edged and aching for me.” I let out a high-pitched whine, panting under him as I weighed my options.

“Fuck me, please,” I whispered, my head dropping and hitting the couch cushions as I waited for him to start fucking me again.

“Good boy,” he growled, moving his hips again as he resumed his punishing pace, his angle moving a little, so he was just barely brushing my sweet spot rather than drilling directly into it. I fought to get a hold of myself, trying not to throw myself over the edge. I was starting to tremble, his cock feeling too good as he pounded into me, never faltering or stuttering. “One night, I’m going to gag that pretty little mouth and restrain you so you can only take what I give you. I’d put a cock ring around that cock and fuck you until you were shaking and crying to cum. But I wouldn’t let you; I’d just put load after load of my cum up your ass and then make you wear a plug to hold it all inside you. And then after I was satisfied, I would make you ride me until you came.” I shuddered, trying to resist the need to climax, although it was becoming more and more difficult. I needed to cum too damn bad.

“Please,” I begged, desperate with the need to cum, “please. I need to cum. Aaron please. I can’t.”

“Cum for me you desperate little cumslut,” he ordered gruffly, not stopping as I came in my pants, quickly becoming overstimulated as he shifted inside me and started hitting my sweet spot directly. He fucked me through my orgasm, not slowing down or showing me any mercy. “Such a filthy little boy for me. Always talk a big game and act like brat until I shove my cock in you; then you become my submissive little fucktoy, desperate and willing to do anything to please me. God damn,” he said, still pumping in and out fast and hard. I moaned, oversensitive and lost as I dipped close to subspace, not exactly there yet. “I’m going to cum soon. When I pull out, I want you to get on your knees in front of me. I’m going to finish in your mouth.”

I moaned out a broken and hoarse “yes sir” as he continued fucking me, his strokes finally stuttering a little as he was close to climax. He pulled out, stepping back so that I could slide off the arm of the couch and drop to my knees in front of him. He shoved his cock in my mouth, thrusting a few times before cumming violently down the back of my throat. He was panting, sweat beading on his forehead and his hair disheveled from where it was normally slicked back and styled. I swallowed, pulling off and licking his cock off. He smirked down at me, one of his hands rubbing my head as I cleaned him off. “Good boy. Such a good boy. You took your punishment so well, baby. Come on,” he said, pulling me to my feet, “let’s clean you up so we can actually leave this time.” I let out a rough laugh, sagging against him, my head resting against his shoulder. “Here,” he said, bending down and throwing me over his shoulder, giving me a playful smack on the ass as he carried me into my bathroom.

“Hey! Put me down, Aaron!” I said, laughing. He set me down, turning me so I was facing the mirror and wrapping his arms around me, my eyes finding his in our reflections. “That was quite the punishment,” I murmured, tilting my head and kissing him lightly on the cheek. He moved me to the side so that he could retrieve a washcloth and turn on the sink, letting the water get warm before wetting the cloth and ringing out the extra water.

“Bend over,” he said, pointing to the counter space in front of him. I did so, letting him clean all the lube off before he threw it in my laundry. He washed his hands, too, getting off all the lube and sweat and dried cum. He moved back over behind me, his eyes locking with mine once more as he leaned down to kiss the sensitive spot behind my ear and bite the lobe. His hands went down, grabbing my pants and pulling them back over my ass. “Mine,” he whispered matter-of-factly, making me blush and break eye contact. “No need to get all shy about it, baby boy. This tight little ass, that greedy cock,” he went on, gripping my hair to turn my mouth to his, “and this dirty little mouth is all mine. Don’t you ever forget it.” He sealed his mouth over mine, kissing me deeply and then pulling back, one of his hands slipping under my shirt to hold my lower back.

“Yours,” I re-affirmed, holding up my left wrist that had his collar around it and looking down with a shy smile on my face.

“One moment you’re a bratty little cockslut, eager to take my cock; the next you’re a shy, touch-starved submissive, blushing at every little comment I make. One moment you’re snarking off for me to make you, the next you’re begging and pleading and calling me daddy. It’s such a contrast,” he said in a confident whisper, nipping at my neck and looking at me in the mirror while I buckled my belt.

“You’re going to make us both hard again and we still haven’t managed to make it out of my apartment. I don’t even know if I could cum again, anyways. You have never ending stamina and my near virgin self can’t keep up,” I remarked, smirking at him in the mirror. He laughed, smacking another kiss to the side of my head and releasing me from his grip.

* * *

Aaron and I crept into his apartment, trying not to make much noise. Aaron went over to his alarm, disarming it and then resetting it. We had gotten in at 2:45 in the morning, both of us tired and sweaty from having some mind-blowing sex with each other on my couch. I walked to Aaron’s bedroom quietly, trying not to disturb the young child asleep in his room and woman in his guest room. I put my bags on the floor, keeping them out of the way. I bent down, unzipping it and pulling out some sweats and my toiletries, walking into the adjoining bathroom and putting my things away. My bourbon body wash from Bath and Body works in the shower. My toothbrush and toothpaste in one of the drawers, trying to keep things separate from Aaron’s and organizing my things. Aaron slipped into the room silently, scaring me as I turned around. He chuckled, moving around me to turn on the water in the shower. He walked over to me, wrapping me in his arms from behind.

“Shower with me?” he asked sweetly. I just nodded, putting my toiletry bag on the counter in front of me. He let go of me, stepping out of the bathroom to hang up his suit and retrieve his own sleep clothes. I heard a whistle from behind me as I started stripping, turning to look at Aaron who was leaning in the doorway, stripped down to only his boxers. I threw my shirt at him in reply, making him laugh as he caught it, throwing it back into his bedroom. I unbuckled my belt, my eyes never leaving his as I slowly unbuttoned my jeans and unzipped them, slowly pushing them down with my boxer briefs. I pulled them off, tossing them past Aaron and out the door, taking off my socks and tossing them, too. Aaron was already in the shower, sighing under the water. I unbuckled the collar, setting it on the counter so I didn’t get it wet and fuck up the leather. I wanted to keep it as pristine as possible for as long as possible. It was custom and probably somewhat pricy for a leather band.

I opened the shower door, stepping into the shower and walking straight towards Aaron, colliding with him and pushing him back into the wall of the shower, a small breath leaving him on impact. My mouth found his collar bone, biting softly and leaving another small mark that only we would be able to see. “I thought you said you wouldn’t be able to go another round?” he said with teasing skepticism.

“Shut up,” I ordered, my mouth moving across his chest, licking and sucking as I did.

“Excuse me?” he asked, grabbing my hair and yanking my head back to look at him, a stern look on his face.

I smirked. “Shut up, _sir_. Wait, no, still not right.” I tugged my head out of his hand, my mouth moving to his ear like he did to me so often. “Shut up, daddy,” I whispered, playful as ever, “sorry. I _apologize_ for my lack of manners.”

He growled, grabbing my hair again and yanking me back, switching us so that my hands were braced against the front wall of the shower. His hand came down, the sound louder than normal because of the water. The smack sounded worse than it was. His mouth was at the shell of my ear, re-asserting his unyielding dominance. “Looks like you’ll be wearing my handprint on your ass after all,” he said, his hand coming down again, this time on the other cheek. I let out a breath, smirking at the wall.

“Thank god it looks good on me,” I joked, making him let out a dark laugh that made my hair stand on end. He brought his hand down again and again, until my ass was just barely on fire, my cock hard between my legs.

“Turn around,” he ordered, letting go of me and letting me turn to face him. His hands went to my waist. “Jump and wrap,” he ordered, helping me wrap my legs around his waist, my back against the wall of the shower, water coming down over us. He reached over with one hand, picking up my body wash and squirting some in my open palm. He set it back down, looking up at me with his warm brown eyes. “Stroke yourself for me, baby boy. I want you to stroke yourself for me while I fuck you up against this wall,” he said, two of his fingers snaking between my asscheeks, brushing over my opening. His fingers were soapy and slick from the body wash and what I could only assume was coconut oil, pushing into me with ease. He pushed three inside me in one go, making me drop my head back against the wall.

He then pulled his fingers out, the tip of his cock taking its place. He pushed in slowly, drawing out a long moan from me, my eyes shutting and my hand stopping its strokes. He tsked, his hips arching up and pushing further into me, pausing when he was fully inside me. “I didn’t tell you to stop stroking your cock, baby boy. Be a good boy for me and stroke yourself. Go slow,” he admonished, pulling a fraction of the way out and pushing back in slow and deep. My hand moved back and down my cock, my pace slow and lazy as he thrust in and out of me. I was unbelievably turned on, the smell of sex and bourbon and lingering smoke making my head spin as Aaron made slow, sweet love to me against the wall of his shower. He sucked a love bite into my skin, kissing up my neck to my ear. “I love you, baby boy,” he murmured softly, biting my earlobe.

I smiled shyly, trying to turn my head and look away in an attempt to hide my blushing. I really wasn’t used to hearing someone tell me they loved me. I hadn’t been told that in a very long time. Like the-last-time-it-happened-I-was-10-years-old long. “I love you too,” I murmured quietly, feeling shy and a little insecure. It was odd to think about. That someone I loved, loved me back. Especially a man like Aaron Hotchner. But I didn’t hold on to the thought, his cock brushing against my sweet spot, making me keen and cry out softly.

“You look so damn beautiful. God… I could fuck you like this for hours. You up against a wall, legs around my waist, taking my cock slow and deep while you stroke yourself equally as slow,” he murmured, trailing kisses along my jawline to my other ear, “and you look so damn pretty blushing like that, all shy and innocent while you take my cock. The first time I set eyes on you it made me want you. And now I have you, and I don’t plan on letting go.”

I whimpered, the need to cum striking me out of nowhere. I hadn’t been close but now I was fighting to hold back my orgasm. “Can I cum? Please let me cum. Please,” I begged quietly, my head dropping forward against his shoulder in an attempt to get as close as possible to him.

“Beg daddy again baby boy. Beg me again and then I’ll let you cum,” he said in reply, biting my shoulder lightly and kissing up to my hair.

“Please,” I whimpered, my voice getting quiet, “please daddy. Need to cum for you.” I was deep in submission and arousal and it made me feel warm and content and so unbelievably happy. It took my mind away from the chaotic world that surrounded me, and I deeply appreciated that.

“Cum for daddy, baby boy. Cum for me,” he commanded, cum immediately spurting out of my cock and shooting onto Aaron’s abdomen. “Good boy. So shy and submissive and obedient. So perfect. My good boy. I’ve got you baby boy. Daddy’s got you. I promise. I’ll take care of you,” he said lightly, still pushing in and out of me. He thrust a few more times, his movements stilling, his cock buried inside me as he came. I sagged against him, thankful for his strength and the wall.

“God…” I breathed, slowly unwrapping my legs and letting my feet hit the floor. After that we washed up fairly quickly, not wanting to waste anymore hot water. He had used my bodywash, which made me smile internally, part of my contentedness showing on my face. He had put the collar back on my wrist but taken away everything besides my boxers. We brushed our teeth and went on with our normal nightly routines, operating as though we had been doing this for years. We finally made our way out of the bathroom, moving into the bedroom and flicking off the lights. I climbed into my side of the bed, waiting for Aaron to climb in so that I could cuddle up into his side and go to sleep. He got into bed, pulling the sheets over us and letting me tuck my head up under his chin, my arm resting over his side. He held me close, his mouth in my hair, kissing me and whispering small, warm praises as I drifted off to sleep.

* * *

My eyes blinked open, the room still dark and my ears straining to hear if anything was happening. The sun still wasn’t up yet, meaning I had only been asleep for about an hour or so. Aaron was on his back, his head turned towards me but still dead asleep, his breathing deep and even. I carefully slipped out of bed, not disturbing him as I did. I pulled on some sweatpants and a t-shirt, silently picking up my bag with my work items in it and exiting the bedroom to work on the couch in hopes of letting Aaron sleep more. I still felt tired, but my head had started pounding again, waking me up and keeping me up. I put my bag next to the couch, walking to the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water and returning to sit on the couch. I opened the water, draining half and screwing the cap back on in hopes that my headache would go away.

I opened my bag, pulling out a file that wasn’t the Texas case and opening it, trying to get through the report process. I went back over the case and my report thus far, pulling a pen out of an inside pocket of my bag and drumming it against my thigh. I started writing, getting through the rest of the report in about 20 minutes. I looked out the window, the outside world still dark. I hadn’t bothered to check the time so I didn’t really know when the sun would come up. It wouldn’t be long before it did. I went back to the file, putting my report inside and setting it on the coffee table in front of me. I pulled out another, starting what would be a consult. It was somewhat hard to focus in the dim light and with my head throbbing. I started writing out the things I could notice. Behaviors that were odd, descriptions, victimology, and everything that was normally written up in a preliminary profile. My eyes shut for a few moments, my body trying to shake off tiredness. I clicked my pen, spinning it in my fingers as I thought about the behaviors presented.

I awoke a little while later to being lifted, my eyes snapping open but shutting when I saw Aaron carrying me back to bed. “Hey,” I mumbled sleepily, not bothering to argue.

“Hi. I woke up and you were gone. I came out to find you asleep in the middle of a consult on the couch,” he explained, setting me down in his bed and walking back to the door to shut it.

“Sorry,” I mumbled in reply, my eyes closing as I relaxed back into the pillows, “I had a headache and couldn’t get back to sleep so I decided to a little bit of work. I feel like I got hit by a car.”

He chuckled, pulling me over to him and started to strip me. He pulled off my shirt and my sweatpants, dropping them to the floor and letting me shift back to my side of the bed. He climbed in after me, pulling me into him and settling into our normal tangle. “Go to sleep. You’re making yourself sick from trying to worry about work,” he said, scolding me gently about getting up and working in the early hours of the morning.

“I said I was sorry,” I muttered back, settling into his side, my head resting against his shoulder and upper arm.

“I know. You just have a habit of not doing what you’re told,” he shot back playfully.

I sighed, my eyelids growing heavier. “I would smack you, but if it’s anything like the last time I did that, you’re going to yank me over your lap and spank me, and I really don’t have the energy for that,” I retorted. He chuckled, tilting his head down to kiss the top of my head.

“Sleep, baby boy. Sleep.”

* * *

I woke up a few hours later, sunlight coming through the window and illuminating the room. Aaron was in the bed next to me, his laptop propped on his thighs, scowling at the screen. I rolled over, trying to force myself back to sleep. Aaron noticed me stir and move, a hand coming to stroke over my ribs and arm. “Good morning, baby boy. How’d you sleep?” he asked, his demeanor and tone sweet and affectionate.

“Like a god damn rock. You?”

“I slept pretty well. It was hard not to after fucking you against the wall of the shower,” he said, smiling down at me. I became profusely red, trying to hide my face but smiling all the same. “Still so shy. It really is cute.” I blushed harder, turning over onto my stomach and burying my face in the pillows. He chuckled, running his fingertips up and down my back.

“Stop saying things like that,” I complained, picking my head up so he could hear me and then dropping it back into the pillow.

I heard something being set down on the nightstand, then the sheets rustled, and Aaron was straddling me, his arms over my shoulders and his mouth at my ear. “Stop saying things like what?” he asked innocently, his pelvis grinding into my ass, “how pretty you look taking my cock up your ass? Or how amazing you look sucking my cock?” I took in a sharp breath, my skin flushing as I became more aroused. _This man is actually going to kill me with how often he can do this. Jesus Christ._ He trailed his mouth up my shoulder and to the back of my neck. “I would get used to it because I’m not going to stop saying things like that. I should fuck you up against the bathroom counter and make you watch in the mirror. Then maybe you wouldn’t be so shy when I tell you how much good you look when I fuck you,” he murmured, shifting off me and rolling me so that I was in his lap. My gaze shot to my lap, my eyes peering up at him all innocent and submissive.

He grinned at me. “I remember when you first joined the team, you wouldn’t look at me in the eyes for 3 months. It didn’t even take Spencer that long to get used to me. But you were always so timid. Always so shy. But I could always tell when you were looking at me because you always wanted to gauge whether I approved of you or not,” he said, making me blush and tuck my head up into the crook of his neck to get away from his gaze. “No need to be embarrassed by it. I thought it was adorable and slightly funny,” he added quickly.

“What time is it?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

He was smirking, knowing exactly why I was changing the subject. “It’s about 10am. You need to get up and eat something,” he said in that assertive way he always had.

“Give me a few minutes and then I’ll cook food. Would you also like food good sir?” I asked, pulling my head up to look at him.

He shot me a disapproving look. “I can make you food considering I’m the one who owns the place and is basically making you stay here,” he said, ignoring my question. I rolled my eyes in the most disrespectful way possible, trying to send a message. He let out a seductive laugh, the laugh turning into a hum. “You really like walking on thin ice. I’d watch yourself, sweetheart. We are the only ones here and I can leave you whining and begging and aching while I work,” he warned, a warm playfulness taking over his features.

I grinned. “I know you could. I just enjoy messing with you,” I said matter-of-factly, shifting off his lap to stand up and stretch. I picked my sweatpants up off the floor, pulling them on. I didn’t bother with a shirt. If it was just us it wouldn’t matter. “I’m going to make food. Would you like some, yes or no? Because I’m going to try and get a workout in after I eat,” I said, looking at him pointedly.

“Sure. I’ll eat with you. And if you workout tell me where you’ll be so I know where to look just in case something happens,” he said as I walked out of the room.

“Sure thing, caveman,” I shot back, projecting my voice so that he would be able to hear me.

“Don’t make me drag you back in here.”

“I wouldn’t mind if you did but if you want me to eat then I suggest you leave me in the kitchen to cook.”

“Brat.”

“Alpha male.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, you amazing human being, you ;)


	37. New Territory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FAIR WARNING: the majority of this chapter is sex. I know I keep writing a ton of porn but i'm horny and depressed so idk what to tell you. I will pick back up on the plot it's just taking longer than expected to do so lol. Enjoy and don't read in public lmfao.
> 
> Drink water, eat a snack, wash your hands, and enjoy chapter 37.
> 
> -Mitch :)

“Nothing can cure the soul but the senses, just as nothing can cure the senses but the soul.”  
-Oscar Wilde

* * *

I was bent over searching for items to cook when Aaron’s hand came down on my ass unexpectantly, making me jump and look back at him. “Excuse me, good sir, the fuck was that for?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

“Because I can,” he said, shooting me a downright feral grin and moving around his kitchen. I rolled my eyes, turning back around and grabbing some of the spinach that was in the crisper drawer and the egg carton. I set them on the counter next to me, returning to the fridge and grabbing bacon that saw.

“I never used to cook actual food in the mornings before I met you,” I commented, opening a cabinet and searching for a pan to cook the bacon in.

“Oh yeah? Why is that?” he asked, pouring himself a glass of orange juice and taking a sip as he leaned against one of the adjacent counter tops and watched me work.

I shrugged, knowing that it was partially from spending so much time with my father. “My dad used to starve me, so I guess I never really got in the habit of eating. I always wanted to get out the door before he got up and started getting on my ass about… well everything,” I said, a twinge of sadness in my voice.

Aaron bit his bottom lip, angry at the thought. He never talked about it, but I knew he hated everyone in Knoxville just as much as I did. He sauntered over to me, setting his OJ down and wrapping me in his arms from behind. “So basically, what you’re telling me is that I now have to make sure you eat every morning?” he stated, watching me over my shoulder.

I tilted my head to look at him, furrowing my brow. “No, what I’m saying is that for once I have the time to cook in the morning and that it’s nice to get to have that privilege every once in a while,” I remarked, looking back at the stove and counter top to start prepping food.

He growled, biting my neck softly to show his disapproval of what I had said. “I think it’s about time we had another discussion about ground rules,” he murmured, making me groan at the thought. I knew it was going to make me cringe and get both shy and embarrassed and I did not want to do that. “No boy of mine is going to skip one to two meals every day. You need to eat,” he said in reply, not letting it go.

“What happened to not interfering outside the bedroom? I understand the dislike of alcohol and cutting for obvious reasons, but this is _not_ a big deal,” I said stubbornly, “I’m still alive and kicking so no harm, no foul.”

He sighed, knowing this was going to be a battle for him. And one I did not plan on losing. “I’ll give you two options. We can either talk about ground rules or we can negotiate kinks so I know what I can and can’t do to you going forward. What’s it going to be?” he said bluntly, looking away from the stove to look at my face.

I pursed my lips, rolling my eyes in exasperation. “Ground rules. I still my brain to cook, Einstein,” I muttered sarcastically.

He chuckled, ignoring my sarcasm and latching onto why I was avoiding “kink talk” so to speak. “Why? Don’t want to get all shy in front of me?” he asked playfully.

I glared down at him. “Something like that. Now can we get back on topic?” I asked, changing the subject.

He grinned, kissing my cheek and looking back down at what I was doing. I laid some bacon in the pan, leaning to the side to open a drawer and retrieve a pair of tongs. “I know I said I wouldn’t interfere much outside of the bedroom, and I won’t. But one of my fundamental responsibilities as your dominant is to make sure that you are well taken care of, and a part of that baby boy, is eating. You need to eat at bare minimum two meals a day, and even then, that’s pushing it for me,” he said, his tone one of gentle authority. I knew that gentle authority could turn into hard authority pretty fast, so I didn’t say anything, instead letting him continue. “You should be eating three solid meals a day. Not just drinking tons of water and coffee and then going home and eating something small or ordering take out. I think that it should be a rule that as long as we aren’t working a case, you eat three healthy meals. Sometimes two if you don’t have time in the morning, but only in a small number of circumstances.”

He eyed me with raised brows, waiting for me to make a rebuttal or to simply accept it and move on. “Well considering I kind of live here now, at least temporarily, I don’t really have much of a choice, do I?” I muttered, deciding it was easier to accept this new rule and find a way around it rather than arguing to ultimately lose said argument. I didn’t mind that much all together. I enjoyed cooking. I just never had time, or I was too tired.

“So, you are agreeing and accepting the rule?” he asked, wanting to confirm it with me so I couldn’t make excuses later.

“Yes, bello. This is me accepting the rule and agreeing to said terms,” I said, sarcasm rising in my inflection. I flipped the bacon, letting it cook on the other side.

“Thank you,” he said, standing back up and kissing me on the head.

“No mention it there, caveman,” I replied, smarting off simply because I could. He smacked my ass again, making me smirk in response. “Anything else?” I asked, ignoring his warning and smirking back up at him.

“Yes. What are we going to do about that bratty mouth of yours? Because that’s the second time you’ve smarted off and you’ve been rolling your eyes at me all morning. So, what are we going to do about that?” he asked, his hand slipping into my hair and forcing me to look at him.

“Hmm…” I started, pursing my lips and mimicking deep thought before shrugging, “don’t know, don’t care. Maybe you should grow thicker skin. Because you are in for it if you think that’s the worse it can get, bello.”

He chuckled, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I knew that I was most likely in for it, but it would be worth it in all honesty. I moved, getting a plate and throwing a paper towel on it to collect grease, taking a few pieces of the bacon out and putting more in the pan. “I should spank you for that,” he said, reaching for his orange juice and taking a swig. I blushed, turning away so that he couldn’t see my face as well, trying to focus on the food rather than his comments. I could practically hear the smirk in his voice when he spoke again. “So, you’ll smart off to me but the second I threaten to put you over my knee, you get all shy?” he asked rhetorically, tsking as he went on, “oh no, no, no. That won’t do, will it baby boy?” He took a step in my direction, a wolfish grin seizing his impeccable features. I swallowed, looking down and away from him, feeling timid. “You used to be so much more confident in your brattiness, now you’re breaking down your resolve so much faster. I’ve almost tamed you, haven’t I little boy?”

I took an instinctive step back, trying to push myself away from the alpha male who was stalking towards me. His look became sterner, making my breath hitch in my throat and my pupils dilate. “I said _haven’t I_ , little boy? Answer me,” he commanded, his tone laced with assertiveness that made me stupid with the urge to bend to his every whim.

I licked my bottom lip, trying to force the words to fall out of my mouth. “Y-yes sir,” I responded, my eyes flicking up to meet his and then flicking back down in submission. He let out a satisfied growl, stepping towards me until my back collided with the counter. He caged me there, his eyes hot on my face. I looked away, not having the confidence to look him directly in the eyes. His fingers gripped my chin lightly, tilting my head to look at him. I knew better than to try and look away now. There wasn’t any getting away once he had me. And it would be stupid to try. His face lost its hard edge, a dark, seductive smile spreading across his face. I just looked at him, not daring to say anything unless he told me to. “Look at that… submitting so easily and remembering your manners,” he murmured in satisfaction, “not even talking back. Good boy.” I could feel myself starting to get more aroused, my eyes darkening as I continued to look up at him, his grip on my chin still holding my head in place. “You’re going to behave the rest of the day, aren’t you baby boy?” He already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear me say it.

I gave a small nod. “Yes sir.” We both knew I was a whore for being praised and that meant doing anything he wanted. If that simply meant less sarcasm, then I would do it in a heartbeat. He glanced back at the stove, trying to make sure the food didn’t burn.

“Good boy. Now finish making breakfast. We still have to talk kinks and I would rather do that over a non-burnt meal,” he said, kissing me on the forehead and then releasing me, walking to the dining table to work some more. I stood there for a second, trying to force my brain back into gear. I walked back over to the stove, flipping the bacon in the pan and taking more out. I went back over to the fridge, retrieving a bell pepper to sauté along side the spinach. I searched around for a cutting board, finding one and retrieving another small pan. I took the bacon out of the first pan and crack some eggs into it. Two for me and two for Aaron. I could always make more. I threw the slices of pepper into the smaller pan, adding in salt and pepper because I wasn’t a maniac who didn’t season anything. After a few minutes I was plating, picking mine and Aaron’s up and setting his in front of him.

“Thank you,” he said, getting up to go retrieve silverware and the orange juice he had left on the counter earlier.

“Welcome,” I said in reply, sitting down and digging into my food. I tried to eat slower so no more comments about how fast I ate would be directed my way, but it was hard. _How do people eat so god damn slow??_ Aaron came back, sitting a glass of OJ in front of me and a bottle of water. I didn’t say anything else, not wanting to talk about what he had in mind. I ate my meal in about five minutes, standing with my plate and moving into the kitchen, washing it off and putting it in the dishwasher. I came back to the table, sitting down and watching Aaron eat. I took a sip of the orange juice, grimacing at the acidity, knowing that would come back to hurt me later. Aaron chuckled, finding that funny. I bit the inside of my cheek, resisting the urge to be a smart ass and roll my eyes in the most disrespectful manner I could manage.

“Behave, baby boy. I can tell what you are thinking, and it won’t get you anywhere but punishment,” he warned, shooting me a stern look. My eyes softened, immediately losing any semblance of brattiness. My eyes darted into my lap, my fingers going to my wrist and playing with my collar. Aaron pushed back in his chair, patting his lap. “Come here, baby boy.” I got up, sitting in his lap and wrapping my arms around torso. I rested my head in the crook of his neck, sighing. I wasn’t excited about what was coming. It was going to be an awkward conversation. “So, we already know you enjoy being praised, degraded, and some impact play. No belts. Anything else in that category off the table?” he asked, diving in headfirst.

I inhaled, trying to find a way not to cringe. “I don’t like anything but your hand smacking me. Anything else just freaks me out. Not that it matters much anyway. You still manage to drive your message home with only your hand,” I muttered in explanation, “and if you degrade me please just… no slurs. And don’t call me a bitch. My dad used to do that. The only place that will get you is me kicking the shit out of you.”

He nodded, accepting that and making mental notes. “What about restraints? I understand if you are opposed to them.”

I closed my eyes, taking in a breath to keep memories at bay. “I don’t mind that much either. No handcuffs, though. I don’t like the metal slicing my skin open every two seconds. But other than that, I don’t mind,” I said quietly, feeling small and slightly shy. _How can one NOT be shy in this situation? How?_

He nodded again. “Fair. We can see about leather restraints or rope. Nothing that cuts into your skin. Anything specific you want to try? Sensation play? Edging?” he asked, calm and confident. He never seemed to be insecure about much but then again, he wasn’t the one answering his questions.

“I don’t really know. I’m honestly up to try most of everything. Besides things like CNC for obvious reasons. But other than that, I really don’t know. I’m just kind of here. You’re the kinky one,” I said, joking in an attempt to lighten things up and make this easier for me. My voice still wavered a little, shyness creeping up as I exposed myself a little bit more. I never experimented because I never had much sex until now.

He hummed, amused by my statement. He nipped the lobe of my ear. “My innocent little boy. I can’t wait to watch you squirm in the coming weeks ahead. And don’t forget, you don’t get to touch,” he slid his hand into my sweats and ran his finger over the tip of my cock, a gasp escaping me, “this cock unless I give you permission. I’ll know if you do. But you aren’t going to, are you sweetheart? You’re going to be a good boy for daddy and let him take care of you, aren’t you?” I nodded, swallowing as he slid his hand out of my sweats and up my abdomen. His fingertips brushed over my skin lightly, tracing my abs just barely. I wanted to grind into his thigh, but I resisted the urge to do so knowing it would get me into more trouble down the line. “Words,” he ordered softly, his hand wrapping around my lower back and slipping down.

I let out a small breath when I felt his hand squeeze my ass, kneading gently. “Ye-yes,” I started, his hand sliding to let him push a finger against my entrance, “ah, fuck… yes s-sir.” I let out shaky breaths as he teased me, my head pressed against his shoulder as I tried to contain myself. “God,” I said in small, breathy moan, the tip of his finger just barely pressing inside me, making me squirm on his lap. I ground down on his thighs and then stopped myself, not letting him get a word out before I apologized. “Sorry, s-sorry sir,” I whimpered, his finger pushing in a tad bit more and making me frantic with need and arousal.

He chuckled, pulling his head back to watch me become even more hot and bothered. “Good boy. I have to work, but if you behave the rest of the day, I’ll reward you tonight since I’ve gotten you all worked up. How about that, baby?” I didn’t know how to respond except for simply nodding my agreement frantically and pushing back off his lap to stand and somehow compose myself. I grabbed my orange juice off the table, knocking it back like it was scotch and swallowing in an attempt to reboot my short-circuited brain. I moved into the kitchen, cleaning on autopilot. I had calmed down, catching my brain but still horny even though I had three mind blowing orgasms the night before.

“I’m going to the gym and then I’m going to run a few errands to make dinner tonight,” I informed him, walking down the hall to change into gym clothes. I dug around in one of my bags, pulling out some Nike gym shorts and a black Nike shirt that was good for sweating. I also dug around for some socks and black boxer briefs, finding them and throwing them in a small pile before moving into the bathroom. I went about pulling my clothes on, folding mine and then running into a small problem. _Might need to pick up a laundry basket on my way back._ I went through my normal routine, making sure I had my phone, wallet, earbuds, and keys as well as a change of clothes and some travel toiletries to shower at the gym. I shoved those in a draw string bag I always kept for emergencies and walked back into the living room with my running shoes. I sat on the couch, pulling on my shoes and getting up, moving over to smack a kiss to Aaron’s head. “I’ll be back in an hour or two,” I said, walking towards the door and opening it.

“Text me if you need me. Be good,” he said loudly as I stepped out the door.

* * *

After an hour work out, I felt worn out and was in desperate need of calories. I stepped into the men’s locker room, taking my shirt off and claiming a shower. The gym was fairly empty as it was still business hours, everyone still working at their desks. I took a quick shower and threw on some jeans and a t-shirt, pulling on some fresh socks and my running shoes, exiting the gym and deciding to get something small so that I could recuperate. I hit a new gain when bench pressing and had done a 2 mile on treadmill for warm up. I was already quite tired, but I still needed to pick up both groceries to make dinner and a few personal items. Like a laundry basket. I also needed to call Aaron and make sure he and his kid didn’t have any allergies or aversions to certain foods. I threw my gym clothes in bag and exited the locker room, saying goodbye to the guy behind the front desk who looked bored out of his mind.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket after I got in my car, starting the engine to get the heat going. I was pretty cold for Virginia considering it was November. I dialed Hotch’s number, the man on the other end picking up on the first ring.

“You ok?” he asked immediately, not letting me get a word in.

I let out a small laugh. “Yes, I’m ok. I just wanted to make sure you and your child don’t have any allergies before I picked food up to make dinner tonight. I don’t want to kill you or your son on accident,” I said lightly.

“No allergies here. What’s your plan?” he asked, the clicking of his keyboard continuing as he spoke.

“For dinner or for the rest of my day?”

“Both.”

I didn’t roll my eyes like I had wanted to, knowing that he would be able to tell simply from his profiling skills. “Steak, shrimp, mushrooms, potatoes, asparagus. Possibly wine although I doubt it because I hate wine headaches. And as for the rest of my day, I will be getting food and then picking up some personal items. After that I’ll be back in your apartment working on the few consults I have,” I explained, pulling my seat belt on.

Aaron was silent for a moment, his keyboard still making noise indicating he was typing out something. Probably an e-mail of some sort. “That is quite the menu,” he commented, probably somewhat surprised.

I shrugged even though he couldn’t see me. “Not really. Everything is pretty easy as long as you understand time,” I explained confidently, waving him off, “but I’ll see you in about an hour to hour and a half. Don’t die of boredom.”

“I won’t. Bye,” he said, chuckling and hanging up. I slid my phone back in my pocket, putting my car in drive and starting my route to get everything I needed.

**

I stopped at a Bank of America ATM first, needing to withdraw cash for a certain few purchases. I didn’t want Penelope Garcia paying attention to my bank information and then asking me about the things I was picking up. I pulled out a good amount of cash, not really sure how much I would need. I could always deposit the money back. I shoved it in my wallet, exiting the ATM and driving to my first stop. It was the stop that I needed to get out of the way first. I parallel parked, walking the short distance down the block to a smaller shop. The inside was monochromatic with black being the main color in the space, everything accented with gold. It was a sex shop, one that dabbled more in the BDSM side of things. I figured I might as well jump in headfirst for simply to make my life go a little bit easier. The cashier greeted me warmly, a smile on her face that seemed somewhat genuine.

“Helllooo. How may I be of assistance today, sir?” she asked, never breaking eye contact. I looked down at the tag on her shirt. _Anna._

I smiled back, reciprocating her warmness and thinking about her question. I figured I could manage since I had come in for something specific. “I think I can manage but I’ll let you know if I need help finding something. Thanks,” I said politely, moving into the back of the shop and down one of the aisles, scanning the shelves for something. I found what I was looking for fairly easily. They were candles that were meant for sensation play. I found it interesting so why not. I picked up two of the candles and moved into another area of the shop, looking for rope. I preferred the idea of rope over leather mainly because leather is more expensive. There were different colors, lengths, and types so I just opted for a longer length in black and a shorter length in purple. _Might as well color code. Keep some of my sanity_. I walked to the front of the store, another man eyeing me who had just walked in. I set my things on the counter, ignoring him. I could still feel his eyes on me, making the hairs on my neck stand up out of nervousness and hypervigilance.

“Find everything?” Anna asked, smiling at me as she scanned items.

“Yeah, yeah I did. Thanks Anna,” I said, smiling back and pulling out my wallet. I pulled out two 20s, handing them over. I noticed the man watching me as he moved around the store in my peripheral vision. I felt tense, not bothering to look at him directly, just paying attention in case he made some sort of move. I had looked at him enough to know he wasn’t Walter Webb, but I was still confused as to why he was staring. Anna handed me a black bag with my items inside. “Have a good day… sorry I didn’t catch your name,” she said, letting go of the bag as I took it from her.

“Reese. And you too.” I stepped out of the shop, not stopping until I got to my car and sat in the drivers seat, scanning the sidewalk to make sure that guy wasn’t following me or something. He hadn’t which made me sigh in relief. I went on with my errands, driving to the nearest grocery store.

* * *

I walked through the door of Aaron’s apartment, moving into the kitchen putting the food away in the fridge. I went back into his bedroom, putting the mesh laundry basket by my stuff and throwing my laundry in it, trying to keep our things separate as to not encroach on more of his personal space. I debated on what to do with the black bag, opting to simply toss it on the bed and let him notice it when he finished working. I came back out, walking over to him and wrapping my arms around him while he wrote out a report. “How’s it going?” I asked, looking at the papers in front of him.

“It’s going extremely slow. We are off rotation for 2 weeks while our team tries to deal with the whole Texas-Webb situation. But of course, the work keeps piling up for me,” he complained, frowning at the report and stack of files on the table. I smiled against his neck, quickly changing one of my plans.

“Hold on,” I said, smiling and walking back down the hall, retrieving the bag and walking back to where Aaron was at the dining table. He raised a brow, skeptical. “Open it,” I said, tossing it to him and leaning against the front of the couch with a smirk on my face. He caught it, still eyeing me with skepticism.

“What did you do?” he asked, trying to be as serious as he could be. I just stood there, smirking and waiting for him to open the bag. He sighed, opening the bag and stilling as he examined the contents, his brows shooting up in surprise. He then let out a dark, husky laugh that sent a shiver up my spine. He was on his feet and on me before I could react, my hands gripping his waist so I didn’t fall over. He looked down at me, a wicked smile on his face. “I think I can take a break,” he murmured, bending down and tossing me over his shoulder. I laughed, gripping his lower back as he carried me down the hall and dropped me onto the bed. I kicked off my shoes, looking up at him with a wide smile on my face. He put the bag on the nightstand, opening the drawer and retrieving some lube and a small plug. “I don’t have enough time to drip wax on you and fuck you, but I can tonight or at some later date. I will, however, reward you for showing some initiative,” he said, a lust filled look on his face.

His hands moved to my belt, unbuckling it and unbuttoning my jeans, pulling the zipper down slowly to build my anticipation. He grabbed the hem on my t-shirt next. I leaned up, letting him pull it off me. He tossed it to the side and went back to my jeans, pulling them down my legs. He dropped my jeans next to the bed and then leaned over to grab the smaller coil of rope from the bag. He dropped it on the bed next to me, his eyes never leaving mine. Everything he was doing was slow and deliberate. His thumbs hooked the waistband of my boxer briefs, pulling them down slowly and letting my half-hard cock spring free. “Turn over,” he ordered. I complied immediately, flipping over so that I was on my stomach. He grabbed my wrists, folding them in the small of my back and then wrapping the rope around them, making sure I couldn’t move my wrists but not letting the rope hurt me by pinching my skin. “Is that ok? Not too tight?” he asked in my ear, leaning over me.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll safeword if I need you to readjust it or undo it completely,” I said back, anticipation coursing through me.

“Good. Safewords?” he asked, checking to make sure I had a clear understanding that I could opt out at any time.

“Red: stop immediately. Copland: stop immediately. Yellow: pause or slow down. Green: all good.”

“Good boy,” he praised, the lube bottle snapping open and then being set on the nightstand competing with Aaron’s voice. I felt a slick finger push inside me slowly, making me arch off the bed. Aaron’s other hand pushed on my back, forcing me down against the bed and prohibiting any further attempts to bow off of it. He slid another finger inside me, stretching me gently. My breathing picked up, my eyes rolling back into my skull. He then removed his fingers, making me swallow down my urge to whine out of need. I felt cool metal push inside me making me arch as best as I could with Aaron’s hand on my back. He grabbed my wrists, pulling me up to stand next to the bed. Aaron settled on the bed, his back resting against the pillows and headboard, pulling me to sit in his lap.

I settled in his lap quickly, a slick hand gripping my cock and stroking lazily. I wanted to buck up into his hand, but his other hand gripped my hair, pulling sharply. A moan was forced from my throat, my head pulled back to bare my neck to him. “Is this what you wanted baby? To sit in daddy’s lap and let him edge you while your hands are bound behind you? To stroke your cock while he pulls your hair and teases the plug in your ass?” he asked softly, his thumb sliding over the tip of my cock.

I whimpered, shifting on his lap. My mouth fell open as he tugged my hair again, his fingers teasing the tip of my dick. “Tell me if you’re about to cum,” he instructed, his mouth finding my shoulder and nipping softly.

“Yes,” I replied breathlessly, squeezing my eyes shut as he focused on the tip of my cock.

He tugged my hair harder, the hand on my cock ceasing all movement. “Yes _what?_ I won’t let you cum if you can’t be a good boy and show daddy some respect,” he said sternly.

“ _Sir_. Yes _sir_. Sorry sir,” I responded quickly, the words coming out in a high-pitched rush. He resumed his movements, squeezing my tip and starting to slowly stroke down my shaft. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding in, trying to keep myself from bucking into his strokes. I was squirming all over his lap, trying to keep myself together.

“Always so needy and responsive for me. Don’t thrust into my hand, baby boy. Just feel. I’ll take care of you, you just have to be patient,” he murmured, using his grip on my hair to pull my head closer to him so he could talk directly in my ear. “What do you want, baby boy?” he asked in a seductive purr that had my cock hardening near to the point of pain.

I had a few options for what I could say, each with an unknown outcome. I opted for, “I want to be good for you.” He hummed his approval, grinning against my neck and kissing up behind my ear. He shifted me on his lap so that I was sitting directly on top of his straining erection, which happened to shift the plug inside me. I gasped, my breathing getting a little faster as my heartbeat increased.

“Good answer. You like sitting on daddy’s lap, don’t you baby boy?” he asked in a whisper. I just nodded as best I could with his hand holding my head in place by my hair. “You’ve already gotten me hard. Just from you sitting on my lap and squirming around. But you knew I would the second you tossed me that bag, didn’t you? You knew exactly what you were doing you insatiable little minx,” he growled, making me shudder as he continued, “you knew from the moment you stepped in the door and saw me getting frustrated that you were going to try and get me hard to distract me, didn’t you little boy? Hm?” I didn’t know if it was a rhetorical question or a legitimate one, so I simply nodded again, my nodding becoming more frantic as he slid his thumb over my tip to collect the precum that was leaking out. “Oh, baby boy… you really don’t enjoy the ability to walk straight do you?” he joked, making me let out a strained laugh.

He arched his hips up just barely, making the plug shift inside me more. “Ah, ah… fu-fuck,” I moaned softly, arching as he did without realizing it. His hand left my hair, letting my head fall against his broad, muscular shoulder. He shifted me again, letting me sit to where my back was mostly leaning against him, but still at a small angle so that my hands didn’t get trapped and possibly hurt.

“No more swearing, baby boy. It isn’t polite, is it?” he asked, arching up again and forcing another small breath from my lungs.

I shook my head. “No sir.” His strokes were getting faster and his hips arching into me every few seconds were getting me ridiculously close. “Please, please… ‘m gonna cum soon,” I stammered, trying to get the words out as clear as I could. My thoughts and ability to speak properly had been derailed a long time ago.

Aaron hummed in amusement. “Don’t cum, sweetheart. I want to see how long you can take it. I’ll have to punish you if you cum and you don’t want that, do you baby boy?” I shook my head no, swallowing as I fought to get control of myself. I didn’t buck up into his hand or try and arch away from his hips as he rolled up into me, trying to keep myself as still as physically possible. “Very good. You’re doing so well. You’re being such a good boy. My good boy. Focus on the feeling. Get out of your head. Just don’t cum,” he commanded softly. I turned my head, my teeth finding the crook of his neck and clamping down softly to contain myself and the overwhelming urge to scream profanities. I shut my eyes, trying to force myself to let go of all my overwhelming thoughts and simply feel. I was panting, my muscles tight and strained, anticipation and want coiled tight like a spring in my core.

He squeezed my tip again, more precum seeping out of my dick and onto his fingers. “Whose cock is this?” he asked warmly, slowing back down and teasing me.

I let out a small whine at the lack of stimulation, my body screaming to be touched yet screaming to be left alone so I didn’t cum too early. “Yours. It’s yours. All yours,” I panted, trying to calm down my breathing.

“Good boy,” he purred, picking up his pace again, “that’s it. Give yourself over to daddy, baby. Let me have control. I’ll take care of you. I know what you need, and I’ll give it to you. Is that what you want? To be a good boy for daddy and let him take care of you?”

I took a lot of self-restraint to not curse like a sailor in that moment. I was so close to the edge, not enough to topple over, but enough to drive me fucking insane. “Yes, god… please, yes,” I moaned, my mind approaching subspace and barely dipping into it. I was drunk off the pleasure and the feeling of being dominated by the sinful man that was holding me to him tightly. “I’m gonna cum,” I told him in a hoarse whisper.

“Don’t cum or I’ll punish you, baby boy. Behave,” he ordered firmly. His hips rocked up against me again, nearly sending me over. I whimpered, feeling incredibly needy. “Just a little longer, baby boy. I know you can’t handle much more, can you? But that’s ok. I’ll just have to train you to hold back longer.” I was panting, my body strung tight with the need to climax. After another minute I thought I was going to implode, my mouth falling open and my eyes rolling back into my skull as I resisted my want to climax, trying to stave it off. “Do you want to cum?” he asked teasingly, his voice taken on that familiar rough edge when he was incredibly aroused.

“Yes, sir, please. I need to cum so bad. Please,” I pleaded, taking in more short breaths as I clawed to hold myself at the edge.

“Cum for me, baby boy,” he ordered gruffly. I exploded into his hand, shuddering and twitching as he stroked me through my climax, trying to get me to ride it out all the way. I sagged against his chest, breathing hard. I felt worn out, my eyelids growing heavier. I always got sleepy after intense orgasm. It was a pattern. “Good boy. You were a very good boy for me. So good. Do you want to clean up or do you want to nap?” he asked softly, holding me to him so I wouldn’t fall forward.

“Nap,” I mumbled, resting my head against his shoulder and looking up at him. His eyes were warm and full of affection. He had reached domspace and was in aftercare mode, taking care of us both. He needed to take care of me, and I simply needed to be taken care of.

“Ok, baby. Here, scoot forward so I can untie your wrists,” he instructed. I scooted forward, mostly just leaning so he could access my wrists and undo the rope. He felt the rope being removed and then instinctively stretched out, rolling my shoulders and letting stretching the muscle. “Get back up here,” Aaron instructed. I scooted back into his lap, nuzzling into him sleepily. I didn’t mind a damn bit. I also got a bit clingy after intense play like that and Aaron knew it. I suspected he needed to hold me although I doubt he would ever admit that. Or maybe he would. I didn’t know but right now that didn’t really matter. “I still have work to do, but I will do it in the bed if you let me go get it,” he said in suggestion.

“Go get it because once you come back, I’m going to be glued to you so I can sleep,” I muttered, my eyes trying to open but failing. He chuckled, shifting me off his lap gently and exiting the room. I didn’t register his return until the bed dipped again. I opened my eyes, smiling at him. He sat against the pillows and headboard again. I shifted slightly, resting my head against his thighs and letting his fingers run through my sweat-dampened hair. “Love you,” I whispered, my eyes closing as I started to drift off into a post-orgasmic nap, feeling thoroughly worn out.

“I love you too, baby boy. Never forget that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehehe wtf am i doing with my life? Anyways, thanks for reading you crazy people :)


	38. The Demons Within

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I awoke with a scream, begging and clawing as I tried to get away from the memories. My eyes were still trapped in the night terror. I felt a hand on me, trying to shake me awake."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: rape, self-harm, abuse, psychological torture, mentions of kidnapping, etc. PLEASE USE DISCRETION!!
> 
> Some angst and some fluff and some emotional shit. Happy reading, everyone :)
> 
> PS. My laptop is an english keyboard, so yes I know there aren't accents in words that need them. Also, my french and italian are shaky so if you speak them fluently, don't bitch at me.

“Solitude vivifies; isolation kills.”  
-Joseph Roux

* * *

_***2 months earlier*** _

_My knees ached as I kneeled on the cold hard concrete in the living hell my life had_ _become. I was covered in bruises and cuts, dried blood sticking to my thighs and along my hips. My hips and lower back were covered in splotches of bruises, all different colors as they healed at different times. My eyes felt heavy, my entire body screaming at me to give up. I stared at the gray concrete with cold, dead eyes, willing this nightmare to be over soon. I wanted to give up. I wished I was dead._

**_Just give up. Just let yourself die. There’s no point going forward. The team will never find you. Not like they would want to anyway. Just let go. It’s time to let go._ **

_I was breathing evenly, although it hurt to breath. I was sore and in an unbelievable amount of pain. I let out a small exhalation, trying to find the will to keep going. I was cold and dirty and broken. So terribly broken; both body and spirit. My mind was blank, my brain unable to generate any other emotions as it staved off negative feelings. It didn’t matter anyway. Emotions weren’t going to get me out of this bunker alive._

**_Are we even going to make it out alive? Do you want to make it out? How will you face the team? How will you face Aaron? How will you face anyone? No one is going to want you. No one ever did anyway. Just let go. Give up._ **

_I kneeled on the cold floor for hours. Slow, monotonous, torturous hours. They slipped by like wind through a crack. My spine slouched a bit as I struggled to keep myself on my knees. I couldn’t endure much more. Much more of any of this. Who could? Who could keep themselves alive for days and days on end kneeling in wait to be raped and cut and beaten and bruised with no hope of escape or rescue? It was like a more hellish version of my adolescence. At least then I got to escape somewhere else. At least there was a reason to push forward. At least then there was a small amount of hope. No there wasn’t any. I didn’t have anything left._

_I registered the door creaking as it opened, the sound of footsteps on the concrete filling the space. I didn’t look up. I didn’t move. I didn’t speak. I just kneeled in silence, mentally screaming to be killed. For this all to end. I didn’t even know if the man would kill me now. I had proved early on I would do anything for the sake of survival. He had grown fond of that. It made his sadistic heart happy. The footsteps stopped, a pair of shoes in my small radius of vision._

_“Look at me, little one. Look up at your master,” he ordered, his voice deep and calm. I knew how often that calmness was replaced by anger and impulsivity. It terrified me, yet I could do nothing about it. I brought my head up, my eyes finding his caramel colored irises and never looking away. His hand found my hair, petting the strands and playing with the longer bangs on the top near my forehead. I felt the collar pressing against my throat, reminding me of his power over me. I stared at him blankly, waiting for another order or command or question. “Do you want to stretch your legs, little one?” he asked, his demeanor mimicking sweetness. It confused me in a way. As though he was capable of some sort of remorse and kindness yet still capable of the utmost cruelty._

_“Yes sir. Please sir,” I answered, my voice hoarse and broken but still quiet and soft._

_“Stand.” I stood, his hand never letting go of my hair. He was about 5 inches taller so he could still control me. I didn’t have the strength to fight or resist anymore. He slotted me into his side, his arms supporting me so I wouldn’t fall over as I tried to stretch out. “Here. Move over to the bed, little one. Then you stretch without falling. We don’t want you to get hurt,” he said, helping me walk over to the small bed in the corner of the room. It was darker in this corner of the room. It somehow felt colder._

_I laid down on the cot, the material of the blanket on top scratching my back. I stretched my legs, my arms raising as I tried to loosen my muscles. I was tight with stress and fear. I could hear the man’s breath picking up as a piece of his self-control slipped away. He was thinking about whether he was going to rape me. I was nude, my body completely visible to his gaze. He could see every inch of me. His fingers brushed over my abdomen, sliding up to my chest and then to the column of my throat to touch the leather collar. Two of his fingers slipped under the collar, tugging and forcing my head and neck up, choking me just slightly._

_Then his behavior shifted, a switch flipping inside him. His hands gripped me, yanking me so that I was folded over the bed and then he turned me over. My ass in the air so he could access me and keep me restrained. I let out a shaky breath, preparing myself for the world of pain about to strike me._

_“Make noise, little one. I want those bastard friends of yours to hear you scream for me,” he growled, the metallic rattling of his belt buckle becoming more prominent. I swallowed, trying my best to prepare myself. Then he was shoving into me roughly, a grunt leaving his chest. I screamed, pain shooting out inside me. He started thrusting, ripping me open as I screamed and cried for him to stop._

* * *

I awoke with a scream, begging and clawing as I tried to get away from the memories. My eyes were still trapped in the night terror. I felt a hand on me, trying to shake me awake. I struck out on instinct, a hand gripping my wrist tightly as I opened my eyes, blinking as I tried to focus my vision on who was in front of me.

“Reese. Reese! It’s me. Aaron. You’re ok. You were having a nightmare,” Aaron said calmly, his voice interjecting into my panicked thoughts. I narrowed my eyes, my eyes focusing as I looked around the room. I saw Jack and Jessica gaping from the doorway, looking at me in concern and what seemed to be fear.

“Oh my god,” I whispered, staring back at them in terror as I realized they had saw. They had seen me and the demons within and they were scared. I was too, in all honesty. I was scared of what was lingering under the surface, waiting to attack me at any given moment of vulnerability. My gaze darted from the woman and child in the doorway to Aaron, a look of brokenness seizing my features. “Oh my god. Oh my god,” I whispered, starting to panic, “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. Oh my god. I didn’t mean to… Jesus Christ, I’m sorry.”

Aaron glanced back at Jessica and Jack. “Can you give us a few minutes, please?” he asked, watching the woman and child step away from the door and shut it. He looked back at me, his eyes reflecting his concern and his empathy. I pushed up, leaning against the headboard and clutching my chest as I tried to get control of my breathing. Aaron sat on the edge on the bed, his eyes never leaving me. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked gently. I knew he wanted me to talk about it. He wanted to know what I was thinking so he could act accordingly. It wasn’t hard to tell I wasn’t feeling the best.

I swallowed, squeezing my eyes shut at the remembered pain. At the fear. “I was back in that bunker in Texas. I had been kneeling on the floor, waiting for something to happen. Anything. And then Webb came back and… and he,” I choked, my throat tightening as I fought the urge to cry. I scooted over Aaron, wrapping an arm around him to try and settle the sick feeling in my stomach. I needed to ground myself again. To let go of some of the paralyzing fear. Aaron wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into him and holding me close.

“Nothing like that is ever going to happen again. I’m going to keep you safe. I swear to god I’m not going let that man hurt you ever again, or anyone else for that matter. I’ll protect you, baby boy. I’ve got you,” he murmured, his fingers stroking the back of my head in an attempt to soothe me. Tears had welled in my eyes, my lungs burning as I fought to hold in the emotions fighting violently inside me. I felt like I was being torn apart. More pieces of myself shattered inside me, becoming unfixable and forever broken, joining the other pieces on the floor. “Do you need anything? Or do you want to talk more? Or do you just want to be held? What do you need?” he asked gently.

It took me a moment to answer as I didn’t want to cry when I opened my mouth to speak. I took in a shaky breath, trying to piece something together. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what I wanted. I just didn’t know. I was too overwhelmed by everything that I couldn’t create a clear train of thought. “Do you want me to take over?” he asked, understanding that no answer meant I couldn’t find one. I just nodded, letting him call the shots while I tried to clear my head. “Stand up,” he ordered. I stood in front of him, waiting for him to tell me something else. He stood, leading me into the bathroom and turning on the shower. “Take a shower and try to get your head together,” he said, walking back over to me. He unclasped the leather band, setting it on the bathroom counter. “I’ll get you some clothes.” He walked out of the room, returning a minute later with some clothes in his hand. He set them on the counter and walked back over to the shower, making sure the water wasn’t going to scald me. “Come on, baby boy.”

I stepped into the shower, standing under the water as Aaron took his exit, leaving me to try and figure myself out. I stood under the spray, my head tilted down so that the water wouldn’t get in my eyes. The warm droplets hit my shoulders, coursing down my back as I stayed put under the water. I took in a deep breath, trying to calm down and force the demons back into their boxes. I exhaled shakily, trying to find the strength not to sob. I hated crying yet I did it so often. It made me feel weak. My fingers went to my thigh, brushing over the scars that would forever remind me of the sick things that had been done to me. The sick things I had done to myself. I swallowed past the bile in my throat, trying not to get sick at the thoughts and vivid memories of the things I had endured.

I reached over to the side, picking up my shampoo and squirting some into my palm, rubbing it into my hair and then washing it out. I then picked up my conditioner, repeating the process but not washing it out. I reached for my body wash, squirting some in my palm and lathering it on my body. I washed it off, repeating the process a few times to get rid of the sweat and grime from the nightmare. My fingers brushed back over the scars. That small buzz of need started humming, telling me to give into the craving and start slicing myself open. I swallowed, biting my lower lips as I tried to wrestle my own impulsivity. I decided to wash the conditioner out of my hair, turning off the water and stepping out of the shower. I noticed a towel hanging on the small bar next to the shower and took it, drying myself off and wrapping the towel around my waist. I pulled open the top drawer, pulling out my comb and combing my hair into place so it would dry. _You need a haircut, kid._

I stared at myself in the mirror with blank eyes. My eyes were somewhat red and looked tired. I was tired. Tired of a lot of things. I went back to getting dressed, sorting through the clothes to find the pair of boxers. I put them on and then threw on the black joggers and royal blue t-shirt, tossing the towel into the laundry to be washed later. I walked out of the room, digging through my discarded clothes and finding the lighter and pack of Marlboros. I pulled on some socks and my checkerboard vans that had been with me forever it seemed. I went to my nightstand, shoving my earbuds in my pocket and then moving to Aaron’s closet to grab a hoodie. I threw it over my head as I walked out of the room. I found Aaron and Jessica deep in a discussion that seemed to be about me. I stilled, looking at the two of them who promptly stopped talking as I walked out.

“I’m going for a smoke. I’ll either be in front of the building or on the roof if I can find the access,” I said, resuming my course for the door and leaving before either could get a word out. I stuck the earbuds in my ears, striding to the end of the hall and looking for a stairwell. Most buildings had emergency stairwells that also served as maintenance stairwells. They usually led to the rooves. I stopped as I got to the door leading to the stairs, pulling out my phone and playing some music. The song “Popular Monster” by Falling in Reverse beginning to play. It reflected my current emotional state in some ways.

I climbed the stairs until I pushed open a door into the light of the afternoon. The sun would be setting soon because of daylight savings. The air way cool but not as cold as it got at night. I propped the door open with a door stop that was near the door that reflected how other residents came up onto the roof from time to time. I walked over to one of the ledges, sitting down and leaning next to it, pulling my lighter and cigarettes from my pocket. I lit one, taking a long inhalation and slowly releasing the smoke from my mouth and inhaling again.

**_“Cuz I’m about to breakdown,_ **  
**_Searching for a way out,_ **  
**_I’m a liar, I’m a cheater, I’m a non-believer,_ **  
**_I’m a popular, popular monster.”_ **

I fell into thought, smoking and getting lost to the music playing in my ears. I reflected on everything, thinking about Texas. I had picked up the pieces really fast.

_Did I jump back into ‘normal life’ too fast? Should I have transferred out of the unit? Am I ever going to be able to move on? Is this ever going to get better? God. Now Jessica and Jack are involved and probably horrified. I would be too. Hell, I am! How am I ever going to fix this? Can I fix this? Fuck. You’ve really fucked up Reese. You have REALLY fucked up._

**_Then cut, dumbass. Give in. Go back to what’s familiar. You know you want to. It’s safe. You’re an adult. It isn’t illegal, either. It could be worse. Just cut and let the high take over. No need to be so stressed all the time, kid._ **

_No. No. No. I’m not doing that. What would Aaron think? I’ve put him through enough already. I’m not going to. I’m going to stay clean. I’m going to stay clean._

_**Why? Just to breakdown again? The knife keeps you stable. You know that. It’s safe. Aaron already thinks less of you. How could he possibly understand this? You need to. You NEED to. Just do it. Do it. Hurry up and get it over with.** _

_Shut up. Just shut up and leave me alone._

_**Oh, we both know I won’t, kid. You need me. I’m you. The real you. Not the pathetic weakling you are on the surface. I’m who you are. You know that. And we both know you want to cut. So do it. Just do it, kid. I can’t leave you alone and I won’t until you cut and make me go away for a little while. We know how this works.** _

_NO. You go away when I tell you to. Now fuck off. Shut up. Shut up and leave me alone already. You aren’t me. You can’t be. No way. I need to stay clean. Just fuck off._

**_Cut and I’ll go away. C’mon… you know you want to._ **

_OF COURSE I WANT TO! But… but I can’t. I can’t. I need to stay clean. I need to stay clean for Aaron._

_**That man uses you as fuckhole. You think he cares? Just cut and move on. We don’t get attached to other people for this exact reason. It makes you weak. Weaker than you already are. You want control of yourself again? Cut. Do. It. Already.** _

I was so caught up in thought I didn’t register another person sitting next to me and speaking. I jumped, looking over to find Aaron watching me and sitting against the ledge next to me. I pulled the earbud from my ear, reaching in pocket and pulling my phone out to turn of the music.

“Why are you up here? What about Jack and Jessica?” I asked, shoving the earbuds and my phone back into my pocket. I took another puff on the cigarette, flicking the ash off the end.

“I wanted to make sure you were ok. Jessica is still in the apartment watching Jack before she goes back to her place,” he explained, his hand finding mine and his fingers interlacing with mine. I didn’t say anything, I just waited for him to ask a question of his own or to say something in elaboration. “Are you ok? You seem… shut down,” he said cautiously.

I shrugged, letting the smoke out of my mouth as I thought about an answer. I didn’t really know how to answer. “I just feel like I’m intruding. It doesn’t help that I woke up screaming and scared the shit out of your 10-year-old-son and sister in law. And I just feel so terrible. Like I’m overstepping. And now the stupid little voice in my head won’t shut the fuck up and keeps telling me to… to relapse. It keeps saying you don’t care about me which can’t be true, and I just don’t know what to do or believe or… I just don’t fucking know anymore,” I rambled, looking at the ground.

“Hey,” he said softly, his fingers lightly grabbing my chin and tilting my head so I would look at him. “You are not intruding. I wouldn’t be doing any of this if I was uncomfortable. It’s my job to make sure you are taken care of. You deserve it after the hell you’ve been through.” His fingers released my face and I leaned forward, readjusting so that I could lean into him and rest my head against his shoulder.

I sighed as he tilted his head, resting his on top of mine. “I just feel guilty…” I murmured quietly.

Aaron wrapped an arm around my shoulders, holding me to him tighter. “You have no need to feel guilty. Would you feel better if you had more responsibilities? I feel like your bigger issue is that you aren’t having to pull any weight which isn’t something you’re used to because you’ve had to be independent for so long.”

“I would like that… but only if you’re fine with it. I don’t want to alienate you in your own home,” I said shyly, feeling small and kind of embarrassed for some reason.

He chuckled, kissing the top of my head sweetly. “It doesn’t bother me. It bothers me that you feel so uncomfortable and feel like you can’t tell me. We have to communicate, remember?” I nodded, a ghost of a smile on my lips. “How about you cook and clean the kitchen considering that’s something you are already doing. Then you can also follow the new rule we discussed. Win-win for the both of us considering you are also pretty good at cooking it seems,” he said pointedly.

“Deal,” I said, putting out the cigarette next to me.

He started rubbing small circles into my arm, making me relax into him more. The sun was starting to dip beneath the horizon. “And one other thing about those responsibilities,” he went on, his voice near my ear, his breath hot on my neck, “do you want them to cross over into our dynamic, or not? I don’t mind either way.” I thought about it a moment and then just nodded meekly, feeling shy and small again. He let out a small breath out of amusement. “And now we’re shy again,” he said, tilting my head back so that he could look at my face, “it’s cute. My adorable baby boy.” I blushed, pulling my head forward and looking anywhere but at him directly.

“You need to stop doing that,” I complained, still blushing as he laughed softly.

“No, I don’t think I will. You’re cute when your flustered and shy,” he shot back. I turned my head, burying my face into the material of his jacket to hide my blushing and my smile. “Stop hiding from me,” he said playfully, leaning over to try and pry my face out of his chest. I went with him, making him slump over onto the ground. I tightened my grip around him, laughing as we wrestled there for a minute. He eventually gave up, laughing as one of his hands tangled in my hair, playing with it. I nuzzled into him, enjoying the feeling of his chest vibrating against my cheek. I finally looked up at him, a small smile on my face.

I pushed up, planting my hands on either side of his head, grinning down at him. He smiled back up at me, his hand coming up and touching my cheek. I leaned into the touch, sighing in contentment. I opened my eyes, looking down at him in awe and admiration. “Aaron Hotchner, you really are something else,” I murmured in solidarity. I then leaned down, sealing my lips over his. His hand slipping around the back of my head, pulling me into him so that he could deepen the kiss. After a moment we pulled away, still smiling at one another.

“We need to get back,” he said, sighing. He was just as happy in that moment as I was. It made my heart ache just little bit more. I rolled off of him, getting to my feet as he did the same. I stood there for a moment, looking at the pinkish-orangish sky with wonder-filled eyes. The world was still so beautiful within all the brokenness. We walked back down, a comfortable silence between us. He opened his door, motioning me inside and walking in behind me. Jessica looked at me, concern painting her face. It clicked that she hadn’t been upset at me, she was concerned about me, which was nice even though she didn’t know me that well. We had met and been friendly ever since I had joined the team, but we hadn’t talked outside of small talk. I gave her a small smile of reassurance and she smiled back, letting out a breath.

I glanced back at Aaron. “I’m going to go talk to Jack.” Aaron nodded, making his way over to Jessica to talk to her again. I strode down the hall, stopping at Jack’s door and knocking softly. “Jack, bud. It’s Reese. Can I talk to you?” I asked, waiting for a confirmation or denial or for the door to open. Jack opened the door, looking up at me and then walking back over to his bed, sitting in front of it and leaning against it. I closed the door and walked over, sitting next to him, my knees up and my arms resting on them. “You ok buddy?” I asked, just checking in.

He thought for a moment, debating whether he should tell me what was bothering him or not. “Are you ok? You were screaming… and it scared me because you seemed scared,” he said quietly, looking up at me with big, innocent eyes. His eyes were like his father’s, the same deep brown color.

I sighed, throwing an arm around him and pulling him into my side like Aaron had done to me. “The truth is that I don’t know, Jack. Can I tell you something?” I asked, looking down at him. He nodded, waiting for me to tell him what I had to say. I took a deep breath before going on. “A few months ago, our team had a case in Texas and the man that we were trying to catch took me. And your dad and our team spent a week trying to find me. The man did a lot of terrible things to me and sometimes when I go to sleep my mind remembers that and I have nightmares. And now the man that did that to me is on the run because he escaped from jail. And he’s looking for me. And that scares me.”

Jack thought for a moment, seemingly hesitant about what he wanted to say next. “Is that why you are staying here with me and my dad?” I nodded. He nodded, thinking again and processing that information. “What did the man do?” he asked, his voice quiet but curious and somewhat confused. I swallowed, trying to find a way to put it without scarring him.

My voice didn’t shake as I explained. “He hurt me a lot physically. He cut me with a knife. And he tried to scare me a lot. He wanted me to fear him,” I explained.

Jack frowned as he nodded, understanding what I had told him and not pressing it further. That was enough for him. “And that gives you nightmares because you remember what he did to you?” I nodded. Jack let out a breath, his face twisting to project how upset he was at the thought. “And now he’s trying to find you?” he asked, looking back up at me. I nodded, a wary expression on my face. “I’d love to see him try. Dad would never let that happen,” Jack said with a hardened expression on his face. Jack was angry at Webb for hurting me which was somewhat… sweet?

I smiled at him, ruffling his hair. “He sure won’t. Your dad is a very good man, Jack. A very strong, protective man who cares a lot about other people; especially you. Don’t ever think that he doesn’t care about you, alright? No matter how mad you get at him sometimes,” I said in a matter-of-fact tone. Jack smiled and nodded. “Alright. Now, kiddo, I’m going to get some work done so I can make dinner,” I told him, standing up. I took a step towards the door and then I felt Jack collide with my lower body, gripping onto me in an attempt to tackle me to the ground. I looked down at him and laughed. “Is that how this is going to be? Alright, kid. It’s on,” I laughed, grabbing him by the arms and pushing him lightly away from me.

He laughed, finding his balance and then rushing at me again, trying to take me to the floor. I caught him, using my momentum to toss him on the bed lightly. I went over to the door quickly, trying to get away but Jack was quick. He ran towards me and I took off, rushing back into the living room and garnering quizzical looks from Jessica and Aaron until Jack rushed after me. I bent over, lifting the boy and tossing him over my shoulder before dropping him over the arm rest of the couch. Jack was giggling and laughing, still trying to fight me. “Got ya- HEY!” I exclaimed as Aaron grabbed me by the waist and took me to the floor. Aaron wrestled me to the floor, laughing with me as I tried to push him off me. Jack then re-entered the thrall, tackling his dad and trying to stay on top.

“Hey, hey, why are you getting me?” Aaron laughed, “help me get him!” Jack then turned his head, a mischievous smile on his face.

“Oh no. Not today,” I said, pushing back and to my feet, dashing to the other side of the couch. Aaron and I had played this game before, but it would be harder with two people chasing after me. I was laughed, dodging Jack’s attempt to grab my waist and latch onto me. I made the mistake of running straight into Aaron who was waiting for me. He bent down, catching me by the waist and hoisting me over his shoulder like I had done to Jack, walking with me over shoulder into his bedroom. I laughed, grabbing onto him so I wouldn’t slip off his shoulder. He tossed me on the bed, his son jumping on the bed and then on top of me as they both tried to exploit sensitive spots and make me thrash around and laugh.

“Alright, ALRIGHT! ENOUGH, PLEASE!” I exclaimed, struggling to take in air from how hard I was laughing. Aaron and Jack stopped, laughing with me. I laid on the bed, trying to calm my breathing down. Jessica was standing in the doorway, laughing at the three of us. “I need to make dinner,” I breathed, smiling at Aaron and Jack. I pushed up, sitting on the edge of the bed before standing up, walking over to my backpack and digging around for my speaker. I kicked off my shoes and removed my hoodie, throwing my hoodie at Aaron with a smile on my face. I walked over to the door where Jessica was smiling at Jack and Aaron. “Excuse me, madam,” I said smoothly, making my way by her and clicking the on button on my speaker. I set it down on the counter, pulling out my phone and selecting a classical piece. Rachmaninoff’s 5th symphony.

I then went about making dinner, working diligently while Jack, Aaron, and Jessica went around the apartment. Jessica took her leave after about 20 minutes. I waved as she exited the apartment, my eyes more focused on seasoning the potatoes on the baking sheet in front of me. I stuck them in the oven, returning to everything else. “Can I help?” Jack said from behind me.

I smiled back at him. “Of course, you can, kiddo. Wash your hands and then come over here,” I said warmly. Jack did just that, waiting patiently for me to tell him what to do and how to do it. “Alright, dude. Knife safety 101. Don’t cut towards you, don’t point knives at other people or yourself, and always watch your fingers. Just be careful,” I explained, taking a mushroom and putting it on the cutting board. I handed him a smaller sized knife, showing him how to hold it. “Awesome, kid. Now all you do it cut this end off and then cut the top into fours, like this,” I said, cutting one of the mushrooms and sliding it to the side of the board.

“Seems easy enough,” he said, getting to work. I then went to work on the steaks, taking out another cutting board and laying a Ribeye on it. I had two bigger ribeye’s and one smaller one. Jack probably couldn’t eat as much as two grown men.

I glanced back to find Aaron watching us, a wide smile on his face. His eyes were full of warmth at watching me cook with his son. “Je ne vous lacherai jamais (I am never letting go of you two)” he murmured, catching me slightly off guard.

A broad grin spread across my face. “Depuis quand parlez-vous francais? (since when do you speak French?)” I replied, making his smile grow impossibly wide.

“Ecole preparatoire. Tu? (prepatory school. You?)” he asked, speaking in perfect French.

“Ecole secondaire. Mais je ne parle pas couramment (high school. But I’m not fluent),” I replied back.

Jack huffed, looking at us both with a scowl on his face. “Can you two losers stop speaking in a different language,” he complained, turning back to his task and resuming his movements. We both laughed, finding that funny.

After about an hour, dinner was ready. We all sat down to a meal of steak, shrimp, potatoes, asparagus, and mushrooms. Jack went on about his day and everything going on at school. We all laughed and joked. For once I felt like I fit there. As though this was normal. But Jack was definitely won over when I pulled out some cookie dough for us to bake cookies for dessert. And that was the rest of my night. Joking and laughing and enjoying the company of Aaron Hotchner and his son until Aaron and I climbed into bed together, spooning together and enjoying each other’s warmth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and thank you for helping me break 2000 hits! It's awesome to see. Thank you guys and stay safe, stay strong, and of course have a happy holiday (depending on what you believe/where you live)


	39. Onset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I want to find that son of a bitch, Aaron. I want to find him and make him pay for what he did. And I will, if it’s the last god damn thing I do. I’m sick of the abusers in my life walking free while I’m left picking up the pieces, and I’ll do it whether you agree with it or not. So either jump on board and help me take him down, or stay the fuck out of my way,” I said darkly, my voice not wavering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: rape, abuse, self-harm, suicidal thoughts/ideation, blood, etc. PLEASE USE DISCRETION!!!

“Hope is the pillar that holds up the world. Hope is the dream of a waking man.”  
-Pliny the Elder

* * *

 _Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep._ “Ughhhh. Fuck off, alarm. I am not working out this morning,” I complained, my arm searching blindly to smack the off button on my phone. I hit the stop button and turned back over, opening my eyes to find a sleepy-eyed Aaron Hotchner watching me with a sleepy grin on his face. I scooted forward and down a little, tucking up under his chin and wrapping myself around him like a fucking Boa Constrictor. “’M going back to sleep. Working out is overrated,” I mumbled into his chest.

He chuckled, the sound making me smile. “As long as you keep in shape. I won’t push that as much as eating, though. Especially because it’s four in the morning,” he said, kissing the top of my head.

I groaned. “Not working out will come back to bite me later but I can just do it during my lunch hour and then eat at my desk while I work. It’s not like I don’t have time. We’re off rotation anyways,” I said, letting out a deep breath.

Aaron tugged my hair so I my head would tilt back so I could look at him. He was in a playful mood, but he still didn’t like the idea. “Mmmm… I don’t know about that plan. You’ll more than likely use it as an excuse to avoid a meal or forget to eat in the first place,” he said skeptically.

I cocked an eyebrow, opening my eyes to look at him. “Bello, please. I am tired and just want to sleep, preferably in your arms. Laisse-moi dormir s’il te plait (please just let me sleep),” I murmured, hoping I put my French together correctly.

“Tant que tu me promets de ne pas saunter un repas plus tard. Si tu le fais, il y aura des consequences (as long as you promise me you won’t skip a meal later. If you do there will be consequences),” he warned, giving me a stern look.

I grinned. “Ah oui? Quel genre? (oh yeah? What kind?)”

He gave me a smile that was downright feral as he leaned in to press a kiss to my neck. “The kind that have you begging daddy to fuck you,” he threatened playfully, pulling my head down so that his forehead was resting against mine. “Are you mine?”

I smiled. “Mmhm. Yeah,” I murmured, kissing him sweetly.

“Yeah? You daddy’s boy?” he asked, kissing me again. I nodded shyly, my cheeks heating up at the comment. I was still really shy around him when he got more intimate. I didn’t know why. I just did. I felt one of his hands slide in between us, cupping my morning wood through my boxers. I let out a breath, not prepared for the sudden sensation. I decided to reciprocate his action, my hand cupping his erection through his boxers. A small groan escaped his throat. “Then why don’t you be a good boy for me and suck me off, hm? Can you do that?” he asked, a smirk on his face. I definitely didn’t mind.

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” I joked, throwing the sheets off to slid down the bed. I slid his boxers down, letting his cock spring free. I took him in my mouth, sucking lightly on the tip of his cock, my eyes looking up to watch his face. He let out a small moan, already thrusting into my mouth. His fingers slid into my hair, gripping the roots tightly and moving my head as he thrust into my mouth. They weren’t deep thrusts, my mouth and tongue focusing more on his tip.

He smirked down at me, letting me take more of his cock until he was in the back of my throat. I swallowed around him. “You look so damn pretty with my dick in your mouth.” I choked at that, unprepared for the comment. He let me off his cock, letting me take in air before sliding back into my mouth, hitting the back of my throat again. Tears were starting to form in the corners of my eyes. “That’s it. Good boy. Fuck, very good boy. Sucking my cock so well, sweetheart. Jesus…” he groaned, pulling me off his dick as I sucked in air, my breathing heavy. I stroked him, waiting for him to put his dick back in my mouth. He pulled me back towards his dick, my lips wrapping around the head and licking over the slit. I tasted his precum on my tongue, sucking harder as I went back down on his shaft.

“Such an eager little slut for daddy. You want daddy to cum in your mouth? Make you swallow his cum while you gag on his cock? I know you do. C’mon sweetheart, make daddy cum down your throat like the whore you are,” he snapped out, holding me on the base of his cock. He was close. He was pulsing in my mouth, his breathing coming out in harsh pants. I popped off his cock, taking in a few breaths and then pushing myself back down, damn near impaling myself. I held myself there for a few seconds, gagging lightly and then pulling back up. I started bobbing my head, moving one of my hands to the base of his cock and moving it in time. He let out another moan, muttering curses under his breath.

“Take me down your throat one more time. Then I’ll cum in that pretty little mouth of yours, baby. Deep throat me one more time,” he ordered gruffly, his voice rough from lust and arousal. I moved my head down, taking him all the way down my throat and swallowing around him reflexively. “Fuck,” he snapped, cumming down my throat with a groan. I swallowed, not really having much of a choice. He let go of my hair, pulling out my throat and letting me move back to him. “That was very good. My good boy. You took my cock so well, baby. I think my boy deserves a reward for being so good. Here, lean up against the pillows like I did,” he ordered, switching places with me.

It then struck me what he was going to do. I just stared, watching him lick and kiss down my body to where my cock was straining against my boxers. “Lift up,” he ordered. I arched my hips up, letting him pull my boxers down to my thighs. He settled between my thighs, his mouth everywhere but on my dick. He finally took it in his hand, his fingers stroking over the tip while he licked up my shaft and then taking me in his mouth. All the way. In one go.

“Holy shit,” I breathed, trying to keep my voice down just in case, “ahh, ah, h-holy… jesus ch-christ.”

Aaron looked up at me, popping off my cock and giving me a smirk. “Don’t look away. I want you to watch me suck you off. Understand?” I nodded, my mouth dropping open as he went back down on me. The warm wet heat felt too good on my dick as he damn near swallowed me whole. I let out small noises and curses, his tongue licking and sucking at my tip as he came back off. He stroked me, looking up at me as he took in some air. “You are way too good at this,” I said in a rush, my mouth forming an ‘o’ as he took me down his throat again. He popped off again, spiting onto his fingers and then taking my dick back in his mouth. I was slightly confused until one of his fingers pressed inside me, crooking until he hit my sweet spot. I almost came from that.

“I want you to cum, baby boy. Be a good boy and cum for daddy,” he growled out, taking my tip in his mouth and sucking hard. I came with a mangled cry of his name, trying not to scream it. He swallowed, coming up and kissing me, letting me taste myself on his tongue. “Good boy. Took care of two birds with one stone, and now you can go back to bed, baby boy. Come here. Sleep in daddy’s arms,” he ordered gently. I turned over onto my side and scooted forward, my forehead against his pectorals. “There you go. Are you comfortable, sweetheart? I don’t want to crush you,” he said, his voice losing its rough edge and taking on one of affection. I just nodded, mumbling what I think was a yes, although I wasn’t sure.

* * *

I groaned as the next alarm went off. Aaron let out a deep exhalation and turned over, hitting stop on his alarm. “C’mon baby boy. We have work to do. Let’s go,” he said, shaking me. I opened my eyes, pushing up so that I could sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed. I sat there for a minute, trying to mentally prepare myself for the day ahead. “Come on, Reese. Let’s go,” Aaron said again.

I threw my hands up as I stood. “Alright, alright. I’m going. Sheesh,” I muttered in exasperation. I walked over to his dresser, pulling it open and retrieving a pair of boxer briefs. He had cleared out a drawer for my small array of clothes so I wouldn’t have to dig through a bag. I pulled off my boxers and pulled the briefs on, tossing my discarded boxers in my laundry basket. I walked over to his closet, pulling out one of my suits. It was my only plain black suit. I then pulled out a dark purple dress shirt and a black tie from the small tie rack holding my small collection of ties. I hung my clothes on the door and went back over the dresser, picking up some black dress socks and then sitting on the bed, pulling them on. I went about dressing like I normally did, slipping into the bathroom to tie my tie in the mirror.

I then rolled up my sleeves, opened the first drawer and retrieving my toothbrush, toothpaste, and hair product. I brushed my teeth first, drying my hands and then putting my things back in their respective places in the drawer. I then opened my jar of pomade, taking some in my fingers and running them through my hair, running them through until my bangs sat on my head correctly. I took out a bottle of hairspray, lightly spraying the strands so they would stay put all day. I washed my hands, drying them again and then exiting the bedroom. My steps faltered a little when I saw Aaron shrugging into his jacket. He was in a graphite gray suit, his dress shirt white and his tie a lighter red color. In my opinion it didn’t really match, but I wasn’t going to say anything.

I stepped out of the bedroom and entered into the kitchen, trying to figure out what I was going to do for breakfast. I still hadn’t found a way around the eating rule. I usually skipped breakfast and opted for meals later. I just went about making random things while Aaron slipped down the hallway to wake up his son. Aaron then came into the kitchen, walking around me to pour himself a glass of orange juice. “I’m going to take Jack to school. I’ll meet you at work,” he informed me, leaning into the counter.

“Got it. I need a copy of the Texas file, by the way,” I told him, trying not to give away some of my anxiety at the thought. He scowled, not a fan of what I had told him. He set his glass down, crossing his arms across his chest; a move that screamed power and dominance and unyielding masculinity. I stopped what I was doing, looking him directly in the face. My facial expression was impassive, a mask that I didn’t use often around him. “I can’t run away from it forever. I have to work the case. It’s my job, Aaron,” I told him, my tone one of sincerity.

He sighed, pursing his lips as he thought about what to say. “I don’t want you to get stressed out because of it though. You lived a part of it. More than any of the rest of us did. You can step back from it if you need to. Hell, I’ll sideline you if I have to. I just want to make sure you understand you have the option to step back from it. I don’t want to watch this job eat you alive like have to so many other agents,” he said, his voice calm. I knew he was anything but.

His words scratched something inside me, irritating some little piece of me. A primitive piece. I looked at him with a colder expression, my eyes icy and daring him to step to me. “I want to find that son of a bitch, Aaron. I want to find him and make him pay for what he did. And I will, if it’s the last god damn thing I do. I’m sick of the abusers in my life walking free while I’m left picking up the pieces, and I’ll do it whether you agree with it or not. So either jump on board and help me take him down, or stay the fuck out of my way,” I said darkly, my voice not wavering. The coldness then left, replaced by a feeling I couldn’t quite describe. I didn’t know what it was.

Aaron just stood there for a moment, a tense silence hanging in the air between us. “Alright. Point taken. Just… please be careful. If you ever think it’s too much, come to me. I won’t fail to keep another person in my life safe,” he said, his voice betraying him. I knew exactly what he was referencing. He was talking about Haley and her murder. It had happened a few years before I joined the BAU. Morgan had told me so I wouldn’t ask, not that I ever would have anyways. A sudden wave of guilt passed over me.

“Aaron… damn it, Reese. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry. I’ll just… god I’m so fucking stupid. I’m sorry Aaron,” I said, guilt coiling around my words as they fell from my mouth.

He shot me a quizzical look. “What are you sorry for? You have nothing to be sorry about. And you aren’t stupid. I don’t ever want to hear those words fall from your mouth again, understand?”

I gave him a bewildered look, trying to figure out how he went from protecting me to somehow threatening to punish me for saying something somewhat self-deprecating. “How did… what?” I asked in exasperation, lost in this entire conversation.

His eyes lost their hard gleam, his behavior shifting back into something less serious. I was still confused when he started chuckling. “Just keep doing what you’re doing, baby boy.”

* * *

“Hotch said you needed a copy of this,” JJ said, handing me a new file. It was the Texas file. The file I really didn’t want a copy of but needed in order to find that sadistic bastard. I didn’t get where I was in life from simply accepting the cards I had been dealt. No, no, no. I had gotten myself to college on scholarship early. An ivy league school, nonetheless. I had pulled myself up from rock bottom and clawed my way into the FBI. I had managed to prove I was good enough to get into the BAU. And now, I was going to find one of the people that had put me through hell and make them wish they never crossed me.

My eyes glimmered with newfound determination as I took the file. “Thanks JJ.” She nodded, walking away from my desk. I put the file on the side of my desk, compiling everything in the one in front of me and sliding it into the bottom section of my desk tray. I slid the Texas case file in front of me, taking a deep breath as I opened it. I knew a copy of my report and psychological status was in there. An account of everything that had happened. Hotch’s report. The team’s handling of the case. Everything. Everything was in there. I started reading, reading over my medical report and psych paper’s first. I quickly moved them out of the way, reading over Hotch’s report.

_After a week of investigation (approx. date: Sep. 27th- Oct. 4th), the unidentified subject blitz attacked and then proceeded to hold one of the members of my team hostage. Agent Reese Benson (personal record attached below). He fit the unsubs victimology and the unsub would later confess to raping, torturing, and nearly killing Agent Benson. The unsub confessed to all charges within the first hour of interrogation and will be taken to trial. Benson was the only victim that survived (approx. date: Oct. 6th- Oct. 12th)._

The report would go on to detail the things I had faced. I knew it would. The unsub had streamed it to them live. He had made sure they watched. I didn’t bother reading any further. I couldn’t. I could hear that stupid little hum in the back of my head, telling me to cut. To revert to older methods to try and fix what was wrong. I wanted to. God, I wanted to.

_**Go on, kid. Just do it. What do you have left to lose? Just do it. Stop being so pathetic. You’ll be able to go back to normal if you do.** _

_No, I won’t. No. No, no, no. Just shut up. Shut up and go away._

**_Can’t do that, kid. You know that. We’ve been together a long time and I’m not about to go away now. I’m a part of you. The real you that no one else gets to see. Just cut. You’ll feel better._ **

_NO. Just fuck off. Fuck off and let me focus._

_**You won’t be able to until you give in. Look at yourself. Weak and lost and pathetic. Just cut and I’ll go away. You know I will. C’mon… you know you want to. Just hurry up and do it. No one will notice. Not like anyone cares in the first place. Just cut and then you can get back to focusing on work. Like we used to. C’mon kid. Cut already.** _

I tapped my fingers on my desktop, my eyes on the file but unfocused. I couldn’t pay attention to the work. Not with that stupid fucking voice talking to me every few seconds. I opened my desk drawer, searching around for my swiss army knife that I stopped carrying everywhere for this purpose. I shoved it in my pocket discretely, trying not draw attention to myself. Not when I was surrounded by profilers. I bit the inside of my cheek, trying not to lose myself to impulsivity. I did not win. I stood up quickly, drawing Reid’s attention. “Where you going?” Spencer asked, that innocent impassive look on his face.

“Bathroom,” I mumbled, walking out in a rush. I could tell Derek and Emily were giving each other confused looks but I didn’t bother to address them. I pushed out of the glass doors, walking down one of the hallways to the nearest men’s room. I pushed the door open, taking the first available stall. I leaned against the door, taking the knife out of my pocket and fidgeting with it. I ran my fingers over the casing, feeling the small cracks from years of use. My heart had started pounding, panic and guilt and fear setting in. Adrenaline started coursing through my veins, my body on edge as my mind tore itself apart trying to figure out what to do.

I heard the door creak as it was opened slowly, someone stepping inside with caution. “Reese…it’s Derek. You ok? You seemed really freaked out when you left.”

  
_God. Shit. Shit. Shit. Reese what the hell are you gonna do? Think. How can you get yourself out of this situation? Such an idiot Reese! Fuckfuckfuck. Think._

I swallowed, taking in a short breath as I tried to think of a response. My pulse was jackhammering in my skin. I was panicking. Absolutely panicking. “Y-yeah… I uh… I-I’m all good. Ju-just needed a few seconds away from… from uh my desk,” I stammered.

I could hear Derek taking cautious steps in my direction, trying not to freak me out and make me panic more. “No… you clearly aren’t ok. You’re panicking, kid. Come out here and talk to me. We’re worried about you. The entire team is… open the door. Don’t do what we both know your thinking about doing…” Derek said slowly. Cautiously. He was speaking like he was trying to talk down an unsub. His footsteps stopped, indicating he was a few feet away from the stall.

“I’m not doing anything,” I said defensively, my tone rough and somewhat angry. I was hostile. _Why am I angry? Why am I here? What am I doing? I need to get out of here. I need to get out. I need to get away before something happens. Get away. Get away. You need to get away in order to survive. You’re trapped and you need to get away, Reese._

“Yes, you are, kid. I saw you take that knife out your desk. I saw how unfocused you got reading that file. It’s the Texas file, isn’t it? You carried that knife religiously until Texas. I remember Denver. Just come out here, Reese. Talk to me. I’m not going to hurt you,” Derek said in calm rebuttal.

I was shaking, trying to figure out who to listen to.

_**Don’t listen to him, kid. He doesn’t know you. He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t want what’s best for you. Don’t listen to him. Cut. Just cut and then all of this will go away. Do it. Don’t listen to him, listen to me.** _

“Kid… you need to come out here. Don’t listen to that little voice in your head. Just come out here and talk to me. We can work this out. You’re developing PTSD and having to deal with this case is triggering you… we can get through this you just have to come out and talk to me. Hurting yourself won’t get you anywhere, kid, you know that…” Derek trailed off, taking another step towards me. The door creaked open again, someone else stepping into the room.

_Is the room smaller? Who’s in here? I need to get out. Someone is going to hurt you. Get away. Get out. Am I going to get fired? Why am I in here? I’m trapped and need to get out. Can’t breathe. Need to get away. Need to get out. Need to get out and get some air._

The voices started talking in harsh whispers to one another. I didn’t pay attention.

_**You don’t need to get away, you need to cut. Then you won’t be panicking anymore. Then all of this will go away for a while. You know that. Cut. Cut. Stop being so weak and cut. That’s the solution to this problem.** _

I heard something clatter to the floor, my hands finding my head as though I was trying to protect myself. I heard someone else speaking. I couldn’t tell who it was. I couldn’t focus.

_Who’s talking to me? What do they want? Trapped. I’m trapped and need to get away from here. I need air. I need to get away. Get out. I need to get out. How can I get out of here?_

“Reese… it’s Spencer. You need to open the door. I know your stressed out right now, but you need to come out to where Derek and I are, ok? Your mind is stuck in fight or flight mode. You need to come out here so we can help you. Just unlock the door.”

**_Don’t open the door. They want to hurt you. You need to cut. You need to. Just cut, kid. Just do it. Just don’t open the door until you do. They don’t want what’s best for us. I know what we need and that’s for you to cut. C’mon kid. Do it already. Don’t be weak._ **

I didn’t know what was happening. All the sudden the door was open, and I was about to fall. And then I was up against Derek on the floor and struggling. Fighting. Fighting like my life depended on it. _It does depend on it. Never again. This isn’t happening again. Never again. Get away. Get free and get away. Get away and get air. You need air. You need to get free._

An arm was trying to come around my chest to hold me in place. “Hey- hey, hey. Reese, it’s me. It’s Derek. Stop fighting. You’re safe. I’m not going to hurt you. It’s ok. Just try to stop fighting and breathe.” I didn’t listen to the voice. I just kept fighting. I immediately found a whole in the grip that this person had around me, flipping us and wrestling with them on the floor. My hand was around their throat. Then I was back on the ground. Someone else was struggling with me. I struck out, my open palm connecting with them and then my fist finding their ribcage, a breath leaving them with a groan. But that didn’t matter. I was on my stomach on the floor. Someone was on top of me. Then there was metal around my wrists and a hand on my shoulder keeping me in place on the floor. There was a knee on my lower back to make sure I was pinned. I was thrashing, trying to get free.

_Get away. Just get away. You need to keep fighting. You need to fight so you can get away._

More words were said. Then the door was creaking, and someone stepped out. I was thrashing. I couldn’t get free. I couldn’t get away. The door creaked again and now two people were stepping in the room. They were talking with each other. The voices seemed familiar.

A deep, smooth voice interjected into the panic, making my movements still. I knew who this was. It was Aaron. “Reese! Reese, you need to stop fighting. You’re alright. You’re going to be ok, but you need to stop fighting Morgan. You need to calm yourself down. Just breathe. In and out. Just like that. In… good job, now breathe back out. In… out. In…. out. Great. I need you to nod or snap or say something if you are back with us.” I nodded frantically, my mind coming back into focus as the hum in my mind started quieting. I was on the floor in the men’s restroom, handcuffed with Morgan on top of me.

“I-I’m ok. I’m here. Can I please get off the floor?” I asked, my voice hoarse as I started to get control of my breathing. I was panting. Morgan carefully got off of me, making sure I wasn’t about to start fighting again. He hoisted me to my feet, letting my hips lean on the counter in front of us, looking at me in the mirror. I felt the metal around my wrists being removed. I focused on myself in the mirror. I was sweating, my hair disheveled and my cheeks red from all the physical activity. I was still breathing hard. I looked back behind me where Reid and Hotch were standing. Reid’s lips was bleeding. My mouth dropped open as I realized what I had done. “Oh my god… Reid. I am so fucking sorry. I didn’t mean to… I wasn’t aware. Jesus Christ,” I whispered, panic seizing my facial features.

Reid waved me off, acting as though that wasn’t important at the moment. “It’s alright. You were in fight or flight mode. I knew what could happen the second you opened that door.”

I turned around, facing them all directly, unsure of what to say or do. I just stood there, gaping as I realized everything that had happened. Derek was holding the swiss army knife, eyeing me with concern and worry. The room was tense, everyone silent, waiting for another to make the first move or break the silence looming over us. Hotch broke it first. “We need to talk in my office.” That’s all he said as he walked over to the door, opening it and gesturing me out. I followed, Derek and Spencer not far behind. “Wait for me in there,” he instructed as we walked back into the bullpen. I nodded, swallowing as I walked up the stairs and into Hotch’s office, taking a seat in front of his desk. I sat there for what seemed like an absolute eternity, anxiety clawing its way up from the pit of my stomach. I tapped my fingers on my thigh restlessly, trying not to freak out again.

Hotch strode through his door, closing it behind him and then pulling the blinds closed so no one could see us. He walked over to the front of his desk, leaning against it and then setting the knife on the desk beside him so I could see it. My eyes went from him to the knife and then back to him, his face an impassive mask. I swallowed, immediately looking away, feeling ashamed and terribly embarrassed. “Explain. Now. I’m not upset. I just want to know what you were thinking,” he ordered firmly, his gaze sharp on my face.  
I opened my mouth, grappling with the words and trying to form them into sentences that made sense. “I started reading through the Texas casefile… and I just… something just… I wasn’t thinking. And then Derek came in and I panicked. And then next thing I knew I was on the floor. And now I’m here. And I don’t know how to fix what the hell just happened… and I’m terrified and so unbelievably guilty,” I choked out, my throat tightening as I got the words out, “and… and I am so fucking sorry. I didn’t mean to… I just couldn’t get that stupid little voice in my head to shut up and I just wanted everything to stop attacking me every second of the day.”

Hotch stood there for a minute, looking down at me. I looked away, feeling terrible about everything. I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to contain my emotions and trying to calm down before I most likely got fired. “Hey,” he said softly, his fingers gripping my chin and turning my head to look at him, “I’m not mad at you. And I’m not going to fire you. Reese, you are developing PTSD. This case is going to trigger that. Do not work it anymore, understand?” I nodded and he continued. “As for the trying to self-harm… we need to find something that you can do that isn’t destructive to you physically or psychologically. Listen to music. Hit the gym. Play chess with Reid, for all I care. Just try not to do this to yourself anymore. We can work on that together, all right?” I nodded again, looking down at the ground.

He straightened, walking past me to the couch behind us and sitting down. “Come over here and talk to me before we have to get back to work,” he ordered, patting the spot next to him. I stood, walking over to him slowly. I stopped before I got there, undoing my tie and tossing it on the arm of the couch. I sat next to him, slotting into his side and resting my head on his shoulder. His arm came around my shoulder, pulling me closer into him. His fingers started rubbing small, gentle circles into my arm, making me relax more. “Tell me something.”

I furrowed my brow. “What do you want to know?” I asked quietly.

He shrugged. “Anything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading kind stranger :)


	40. Date Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some 'funishment' lol....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: DO NOT ACTUALLY GO OUT IN PUBLIC AND DO THIS! DO NOT DO THAT! PLEASE! THIS IS FICTIONAL. BE SMART. 
> 
> Enjoy the chapter you crazy mofos :)

“Permanence, perseverance, and persistence in spite of all obstacles, discouragements, and impossibilities: it is this, that in all things distinguishes the strong soul from the weak.”  
-Thomas Carlyle

* * *

“What do you want to know?” I asked quietly.

Aaron shrugged. “Anything.”

I let out a deep breath, thinking about what to say. I was sitting in Aaron’s office, on his couch, against his side with one of his arms wrapped around me, holding me close. I didn’t really know what to talk about. He had asked me to simply talk to him which was something I found to be more difficult than it should have been. I was still trying to process everything that had happened in the past 20 minutes. Everything I had done. I swallowed, preparing to tell Aaron things about myself I hadn’t said out loud in years. “I don’t remember much about my family… my mom died when I was 6. Drunk driver. He had sped through an intersection and t-boned my mom. I remember everything changing. My dad didn’t bother keeping up with her side of the family. I used to sit in my room and think about what it would have been like if my mom had survived the accident. But I never talked about it. I think it’s because I always felt so guilty about not remembering much of anything about her. I haven’t even seen a picture of her in years besides one I have at my apartment.

“But my dad changed. Started drinking. I think he tried to be a good father when I was younger. But he didn’t smile much. He never wanted to have much to do with me. I think he was too in love with my mother to look at me and try and raise me.” I paused, trying to grasp onto something to say next. I didn’t really know where any of this was coming from. It was just… there. And I was simply purging it. “I remember the first time he beat me. I was 12 or 13 at the time. I remember being at the dining table one moment and then curled up on the floor while he beat me with a belt the next. He had been drunk, of course. But when wasn’t he at that point in time. And when he found out I was gay a year or two later, it all got worse. And I remember wondering what life would have been like if my mom was still around and if we still could have had a family. Maybe I would have went on to do something else. Become someone else. And yet here I am, sitting in my boss’s office and telling him things I haven’t said out loud… well ever and wondering how the hell I’m going to fix my life and myself.”

I quieted, effectively shutting up because I thought I had said too much. We sat silent for what seemed like a long time. I didn’t know what else to say. His next words caught me off guard. “Go on a date with me tonight.”

I tilted my head back to look at him. “What about your son? And work? I don’t want to—”

He cut me off before I could finish that guilt-ridden sentence. “Jessica can watch Jack for a few hours, or he can spend the night with her. I want to spend a night with you. Take you to dinner. Maybe do something in D.C.”

I shot him a skeptical look. “Why? Why would you want to do that?”

He shrugged, smiling at me. “Because I want to. I told you. You deserve to have someone care about you and care for you, and that person is me. I want to treat my boy tonight,” he said matter-of-factly. I looked back down, blushing. I mumbled something that he couldn’t hear. “What was that?” he asked teasingly.

“I said fine! Yes, I will go on a date with you tonight. Jesus, yes, I will go, ok? Happy?” I said in a rush, acting as though I was frustrated. It was an act of course, he knew that.

“Very happy now, actually. Now we both have to unfortunately get back to working.” I groaned. “I know. I don’t want to either but we kind of have to. C’mon. Let’s go,” he said, rising to his feet. I reluctantly stood, grabbing my tie off the arm of the couch. I flicked my collar up, tying the tie around my neck easily and putting my collar back down. “Here, let me fix that,” Aaron said, smiling at me as he adjusted my tie to his liking. He cupped my face in his palm, his thumb brushing over my cheek. I gave him a small smile, peering up at him through my lashes. “Good boy.” The words came out of his mouth in a quiet, confident declaration. My heart skipped a small beat, my eyes darting away from his. He chuckled, his fingers running through my hair and taming some of the messy strands that had been tousled during my wrestling match with Morgan.

I exited Hotch’s office feeling more stable than I had been, a new wave of calm passing over me. I eyed Morgan, deciding I needed to get my apologies out of the way. He was going to want to talk about it, even if he told me he didn’t need an explanation. I walked over to my desk, closing the Texas file and dropping it in my desk somewhere. I then walked over to Morgan’s desk, stopping and opening my mouth as I tried to find the words to try and mend this situation. “Hey, Derek… I’m uh… I’m sorry for what happened back there. I wasn’t… I just didn’t… thanks for trying to help me. I really didn’t deserve it,” I stammered, looking at the ground in embarrassment.

I could tell he was looking at me. “It really isn’t a problem, kid. You’re like a little brother to me. Of course I’m going to try and help you. And it really wasn’t a big deal. You were panicking and your mind went to fight or flight. Not your fault,” Derek said smoothly, waving it off.

I looked up, my face expressing how incredibly guilty and bad I felt about it. In a way it was also somewhat humiliating. “Yeah… I just feel bad because I tried to… you know… hurt you,” I said, getting quieter as I spoke. I scratched at my neck just above my collar, feeling awkward.

Derek chuckled, grinning at me. “You sure can fight, kid. I knew you were going to struggle, but damn. You managed to get me into a more vulnerable position faster than I thought you would. I didn’t really think you _could_. Thank god for Spencer, or I would have gotten choked out,” Derek said, although his tone was light-hearted, as though it was funny, “and thank god for handcuffs. You were even hard to get control of when you were restrained.” I blushed at that, looking back down at the ground. “No need to feel bad about it, kid. You just caught me by surprise. I’m alright.”

I nodded. “Alright, alright. I’m going to… yeah…” I said awkwardly, walking about over to my desk and sitting down, getting back to work.

* * *

I felt my phone buzz in my pocket, taking me away from my state of focus. I had a feeling I knew who it was. I pulled my phone out, reading the text on the screen.

_Hotch: Take a break and eat a meal. Lest I need to remind you of the rules._

I stared at the text for a minute, biting my bottom lip. I really needed to get this work done. Especially if the plan was to go to dinner later. I was already behind on work. I typed out a reply and hit send, setting my phone down on my desk and picking my pen back up.

_Me: I really need to get this done. I’m behind already and you don’t need Strauss on your ass. Give me a free pass this one time. Please?_

My phone vibrated on the desk, interrupting my train of thought once again.

_Hotch: No. The work can wait. Your well being comes first. Eat. Now._

I scowled at the screen, setting my pen down to type out a reply. I then went back to what I was doing, trying to focus.

_Me: It won’t be when one of us gets suspended and IA gets involved or if I get fired over it. I really can’t afford to get behind anymore than I already am. Please just let me finish this work before I take a break._

My phone vibrated, making me let out a frustrated sigh. _Now is really NOT the time, caveman._

_Hotch: The answer is no. Eat. Now. End of discussion._

I typed out a frustrated reply, knowing it would rile him up, but I really didn’t care at the moment.

_Me: As long as you give me your recommendation when I’m booted into another division, there caveman. I’m going to finish this piece of what I’m doing. Then I will eat. Calm down before you have a heart attack or something._

I flipped my phone over on my desk, trying to focus yet again but remaining unsuccessful. He had interrupted to the point I couldn’t get my mind back on track. I scowled at the paperwork, trying to pick back up despite his best efforts to get me to stop. My phone vibrated. I flipped it back over, swallowing when I read what he had said in response.

_Hotch: I’ve just about had it with the attitude and the back talk. If you were looking to get yourself in trouble, you’ve managed to do just that. You should consider yourself lucky that I haven’t already dragged you back up here and put you back in your place. It seems there’s still some more bratty defiance left in you. Unless you really want to get punished, I suggest you stop what you are doing and do as your told. Do I make myself clear?_  
_Me: Yes sir. Sorry sir._

I slid my phone in my pocket, deciding that I was going to take my lunch break finally. I did not want to toe the line anymore than I already had. He meant what he said, and I did not want to find out what that alley had in store. I knew better than to push any further. I looked over at Spencer, deciding I should probably try and buy him lunch considering I had also fought him on the bathroom floor.

“Hey Spencer. Want to do lunch? I’ll buy considering I kind of smacked you in the face and busted your lip open and then punched you in the ribs,” I said, glancing over at him with a broad smile.

Spencer pursed his lips, trying not to smile. “Yeah, I’ll go. My days been kind of slow, anyways.”

* * *

Aaron and I drove separately back to his apartment complex, deciding we would drive together to dinner instead. It would give us the opportunity to change anyways. I parked in the spot next to his, waiting for him to park so we could ride up to his apartment. I didn’t have a key anyway. It was easier just to wait. I opted to wait in the lobby, though. Profiling random people simply for the hell of it. I felt a hand on me and jumped, turning to find Aaron smirking at me with his eyebrows raised. “Shall we?” he asked teasingly. I nodded, walking next to him and then waiting for an elevator.

He opened the door to his apartment, walking over to his gun safe and opening it. I removed my holster and gun, handing it him to secure in the safe. I waited for him, watching him shut the safe and lock it. “Come on. Let’s get changed so we can go out to dinner,” he said, taking my hand and leading me to the bedroom.

I kicked off my dress shoes, putting them in the closet and taking off my tie, hanging it on my tie rack. I then took off my jacket, hanging it back up and unbuttoning my dress shirt. I went over to the dresser to pull out a pair of jeans but was immediately stopped by Aaron. “Go sit on the bed and wait,” he commanded, waiting expectantly. I complied quickly, doing what I was told and sitting on the bed. I watched him move around the room, taking off his own suit jacket and stripping down until he was only in his slacks. He then started gathering clothes for himself, walking into the bathroom and shutting the door so I couldn’t watch him change. He came back out in a pair of jeans and a black polo, a casual look that screamed sex appeal. I didn’t bother to hide my gawking, staring at him with a hungry look in my eyes. He walked over to me, his hands finding my shirt and working on the final buttons, freeing them one by one.

“Do you want to play, baby boy?” he asked, his tone serious. He was looking for some sort of consent. I nodded, looking up at him sheepishly. “Words,” he ordered firmly, wanting me to give him a verbal answer. He wanted to hear me say it.

“Yes sir,” I said simply, waiting for him to make another move.

He smiled down at me, pushing my shirt over my shoulders and dropping it on the bed next to me. His hands went to my belt, unbuckling it and then unbuttoning my slacks. He picked up my dress shirt, walking away and dropping it in my laundry and then retrieving a pair of black jeans from the dresser for me. He tossed them on the bed, walking over to closet and flicking through my shirts, taking a solid colored maroon Henley off its hanger and tossing it on the bed as well. He walked back over to me in a slow, sexy stride that made me want him more than I already did. He stopped in front of me, cupping my face with one of his hands. “You were quite the brat earlier today, weren’t you baby boy?” he asked, raising a brow expectantly.

I nodded, my eyes looking anywhere but at his face. “Eyes up here, sweetheart. Look at me,” he ordered firmly, my eyes immediately coming up to make and hold eye contact. “What do you think we should do about that, hm? Because I know you know better than to directly disobey me and talk back,” he murmured, his thumb stroking over my bottom lip. I just stared at him, not feeling brave enough to say anything. “Not so bold now, are we little boy?” he remarked, a smirk playing on his lips, “stand up and take off your pants. Boxers too.” I stood up, kicking my pants and boxers off and then waiting for his next instruction. He leaned over, opening the nightstand drawer and taking out a bottle of lube. “Turn around and bend over.” I did exactly that, confused as to what he was doing. I felt his finger press inside me, stretching me just slightly and then pulling out. Then something else was pressing inside me, pushing in until it pressed against my sweet spot. I gasped, completely unprepared for it. He pressed it in more, adjusting it until it was exactly where he wanted it, which for me was pressing directly against my prostate.

I felt his hips press into my thighs as one of his hands came around, his fingers splaying against my stomach. I felt his breath on my neck making the little hairs stand up. “You know what the best part of this plug is, baby boy? I can do this.” I heard something click and then it pulsed inside me. I would have collapsed on the bed if Aaron wasn’t holding me to him. A heard another small click, the vibrating coming to a stop. “Hm. I’m going to watch you squirm all night. Then maybe you’ll think twice about being a brat when we are at work or in public. Now stand up straight and get dressed and then sit back down on the bed.” I stood up, taking a minute to get used to the object that was now inside me. I picked up my boxers and pulled them off, jolting a little when the plug moved a little.

Putting on clothing was unbelievably slow. “God fucking- ah,” I muttered under my breath, buckling my belt. I threw my shirt on and then sat back down on the bed, trying not to squirm.

Aaron was biting his lower lip, trying not to laugh. He came over to me, his hands cupping my face again. “The better behaved you are tonight, the easier this will go, ok? I need you to be good for me and do as you’re told.” I just nodded, my brain still trying to catch up with the fact that this was actually happening. He walked back over to the closet, tossing me a hoodie and retrieving a jacket of his own. I pulled the hoodie over my head, standing up and retrieving that beat up pair of checkerboard vans I wore all the time. I pulled those on as well and then shoved my phone in my pocket, trying my hardest to move normally.

“Where… where are we going?” I asked, still trying to get myself together.

“Bistro Voltaire. It’s a smaller French place,” he said in reply, ushering me towards the front door.

I smirked. “C’est une excuse pour me parler dans un lieu public sans que personne ne le sache (are you using this as an excuse to talk dirty to me in a public place without anyone knowing)?” I asked teasingly. The plug started vibrating which made me regret what I had said immediately. I stopped in my tracks, my back arching as I rushed to make amends. “Oh c’mon! That was funny! Aaron, please stop. I’m sorry, ok? I’m sorry. Please just stop,” I pleaded, my words coming out a mile a minute.

He laughed, clicking the remote in his pocket and stopping the vibration. I let out a relieved sigh, my hands thrusting forward so I could compose myself against the wall. “Are you going to behave now?” he asked teasingly. I just looked back at him in bewilderment, my face already profusely red. I nodded, straightening and continuing the walk to the front door.

* * *

Aaron and I were sitting next to each other in a booth in a small, family owned French Bistro in D.C. We were facing away from the eyes of the rest of the people in the main dining room. I was sat on the inside of the booth for some reason I had yet to determine, which was somewhat of a handicap considering I was left-handed, and Aaron was not. The room was somewhat dim, the main source of light being a chandelier in the middle of the room with smaller lights on the walls above the booths that lined the room. The walls were a darker crimson, the booths matching the color of the walls. Everything was accented in white, black, and gold.

Aaron and I had already ordered. It was classic French cuisine, something I could definitely appreciate. He had ordered Confit de Canard while I had opted for Moules a la Mariniere. “Muscles?” he asked, his brows raised in skepticism.

I nodded, grinning at him. “Yep. I have taste. Muscles are usually really good in classic French dining. Worst comes to worst I steal some of your meal and pay for my portion,” I said, smiling at him.

He furrowed his brow in disapproval at the notion of me paying. I felt the plug vibrate again, a choked breath escaping my lungs as I sunk my teeth into my bottom lip to contain myself. He leaned in, lowering his voice so that no one around us could hear him off-handedly. “Are you going to argue with me about paying or are you going to be good for me?” he asked in a low whisper.

“I’ll be good. I’ll be good. Please just turn it off. We’re in public. Please,” I whispered back, already desperate. For some people, what Aaron was doing to me could be considered exciting. For me, however, it was not. I was too shy to find it anywhere near exciting. For me it _was_ a punishment.

He didn’t click it off. In fact, he scoffed, not taking any pity on me or having any sort of mercy. “Why would I do that when I love hearing you beg and watching you squirm? This is a punishment, remember? Maybe next time you’ll think ahead before you disobey me and talk back,” he whispered in reply, no doubt a devilish grin on his face.

I turned my head to look at him, my eyes pleading with him. I leaned in, lowering my voice to the point that it was barely audible. “Aaron, you’re going to give me a hard-on in a public place. Please just turn it off. I’ll behave. Please,” I whispered harshly, my voice still maintaining a rough edge. My body was starting to react more, arousal building inside me. I bit my bottom lip again, biting back a whimper.

“Why do you think you’re sitting in the inside of the booth? I want to see if I can make you cum right here while we eat dinner,” he whispered darkly. I looked at him in sheer horror. _He can’t be serious. He CANNOT be serious!_ He chuckled, clicking the remote and stopping the vibrations. “I’m kidding. I told you I was going to be easy on you, so long as you behave,” he said playfully, a broad grin on his face. I was too relieved to be upset, letting out a deep breath before I freaked out. “Did you actually think I was going to make you cum right here at this table in the middle of a public place?” he asked, a look of surprise on his face.

“Yes!” I said harshly, gritting my teeth.

“Aw, I’m sorry baby boy. I didn’t mean to scare you, unless you want me to make you cum—”

“No! God, please no,” I said, cutting him off, “please dear god do not do that.”

“You sure, baby boy?” he asked, moving one of his hands to my thigh and running up until he was cupping my groin. He leaned in again. “I know how much you like cumming for me.” I blushed, looking down and trying to will myself not to get hard. It wasn’t working very well. “Oh, look at that. Is my boy getting turned on? Filthy little slut,” he murmured, his fingers coming up and playing with my belt. I swallowed. Our waiter came over, making me jump as he set some bread on the table and walked off. “Nervous, sweetheart?” he asked, immensely amused.

“Y-yes,” I stuttered, trying to ignore his hands as I leaned forward, taking a piece of the bread out of the basket and taking a bite of it. He waited for me to swallow, then clicked the remote, making the vibrator pulse again.

“What was that? I don’t think I heard you correctly,” he teased, his hands becoming more emboldened.

I realized my mistake and corrected myself. “Yes sir- ah, ah. Please,” I whispered, begging him. I didn’t really know if I was begging him to stop or begging him to continue. I bit my bottom lip, a small whimper escaping my throat before I could stop it. “Aaron, please… I am not going to make it through dinner if you keep doing, ahh, that,” I choked out, his hand stroking me through my jeans.

He hummed, amused by that statement. I grabbed his wrist, my fingers digging into his skin as he continued to stroke my cock that was straining against my jeans. Usually I was pretty good at controlling my micro expressions but not right now. All that went out the window. “That’s ok. I know you can’t help it, can you? Such a filthy little boy for me. Unless you want to make a mess of yourself, you’re going to need to control yourself because I’m not going to stop until we leave,” he murmured. I stifled a small moan, resisting the urge to buck into his hand. My jeans were uncomfortably tight, my muscles tightening as the pleasure surged inside me.

“Aaron, please. You’re going to kill me. I’m not going to be able to… f-fuck,” I whispered, my head dropping back against the booth. The booths were taller on the back, giving us privacy, thank god.

“Watch your mouth, sweetheart. I’ll make it harder to contain yourself if you can’t be polite,” he admonished. He was grinning. “You’re adorable when you’re flustered and begging. Stay focused, baby boy. Wouldn’t want you cumming and making a mess of yourself in public, would we?” he asked, teasing me as he stroked my erection.

He was torturing me. Screw the punishment, this was downright cruel! _Don’t call him an asshole. Don’t call him an asshole. Don’t call him an asshole._ I had one last card I could pull, although I had no clue if it would work or not. I lowered my voice again. “Daddy, please… I will not be able to control myself that long. Please,” I begged quietly.

He chuckled, clicking his tongue. “Oh, baby boy. If you thought that was going to make me take it easier on you, you are sorely mistaken. Daddy’s going to make a mess of you, baby boy. Come on sweetheart, get close for me. Be a good boy for daddy and get close,” he commanded. I exhaled, trying not to moan. He was already driving me insane and we hadn’t even gotten through the complimentary bread.

I let out a tense laugh at the thought. “I’m not going to be able to eat if you keep doing that. I would choke to death,” I laughed, trying to find an out. I knew eating would be one of those. It would give me a break and a chance to regain some of my self-control.

“Is that a challenge?” he asked, ceasing his strokes and then playing with my belt again. I knew what he was doing. He was trying to make me beg him to touch me again. I was determined to keep it together. Determined to win, like this was a game.

“It depends. Is it going to lead to more punishment, or will I be safe from your wrath?” I asked, both teasing and serious. I looked up at him, arching a brow in question.

He laughed, smiling down at me. “You’ll be safe. Although I don’t think you’re going to win,” he said, playful arrogance emerging that made me even more determined. He took a piece of bread, tearing a bite off and popping it in his mouth. I did the same, trying to get myself away from the sexual ledge I was teetering on. I took a sip of the water in front of me, licking my bottom lip. I caught the small exhalation Aaron let out, telling me I was getting under his skin, just a little bit. I bit my lip to contain my smirk, a growl leaving his throat. He knew what I was doing, although I wasn’t doing it on purpose. “Is that how it’s going to be, little boy? You’re going to regret that,” he remarked, his hand then slipping behind me, finding its way underneath my shirt and teasing the waistband of my boxers. My breath caught in my throat, knowing that I was going to be in for it. He wasn’t going to give me a break now. He was going to push me to the brink of insanity right here, right now.

His hand went back to my aching dick, stroking me yet again. Another choked moan escaped me as I struggled to keep the noises inside me. “There it is… c’mon baby boy. I know how much you want to be good for me. Be a good boy and get close for me. I want you to make a mess for me. Right here,” he asserted. I swallowed, arching just slightly without being aware that I was doing it.

I was not going to last. He was right; I was going to regret it. I was too turned on for my own good which split my stamina in half. “Aaron, please, no more. I won’t tease you again. I’m sorry. Please just, mm, no more,” I begged, my voice a desperate whisper.

He tsked, becoming more dedicated to his resolve. “Ah-ah-ah baby boy. You wanted to be a tease, now you’re paying the price. Go on, sweetheart. Make a mess of yourself for daddy. Right here. Be a good boy and cum,” he instructed teasingly.

I dropped my head against his shoulder, shifting as I fought to control myself. My hand went to his thigh, my fingers digging into the denim of his jeans. “No. Please no more. I’m sorry. I won’t tease you again. ‘M sorry. Slow down… please. _God_ …” I picked my head back up, dropping it against the booth as my mouth fell open. I was dangerously close.

“No. I’m not going to stop until you cum. I might not even stop after you cum. But either way you’re going to be a good boy and cum for me. You’re going to make a mess of yourself for me. So go on, baby boy. Cum for daddy. Be a good little whore and cum for me. I know you want to,” he coaxed. I felt precum leak out of my throbbing cock. I was going to lose this battle. I was too wound up to stop myself now. I was close. Too close. “Almost there, aren’t we? Just can’t help yourself. Give in, sweetheart. That’s it. My helpless little boy. How close are you?”

“I- oh god,” I breathed, my climax building, “’m close.”

He hummed his approval, his strokes never faltering. Never slowing down. “I want you to cum. Go on. Cum for me, little boy. Make an absolute mess of yourself for me like the dirty little slut you are. My filthy little whore.” I gripped onto his thigh harder, trying to force myself not to finish. _Don’t do it. Don’t do it. Keep it together. Keep yourself together._

“ _Jesus Christ_ ,” I muttered under my breath. I was so close I wanted to scream. “Slower, please,” I said breathlessly, my muscles tightening as I got closer.

“I’m not going to slow down when you’re so close, baby. Stop fighting and cum for daddy. You’re so close. Give in. C’mon baby boy, be a good boy and cum for me. I know you want to. Prove to me you can be a good boy and cum,” he said, still trying to coax me to orgasm, “I’ll be so proud of you if you can cum for me. Fuck, baby boy. I’m going to fuck the hell out of you later. Do you want that? Do you want daddy to fuck you?” I just nodded, losing my ability to speak. I was strained to keep myself under control, that control slowly slipping away. “Then you need to cum for him. Cum for daddy, sweetheart.”

That was my undoing. I leaned into his shoulder, sinking my teeth into his clothed shoulder as I came. I twitched, riding out my climax in the middle of a fucking restaurant. “That’s it. Good boy,” Aaron praised quietly, hitting the remote so the vibrations would stop, and I wouldn’t become overstimulated. “You were a very good boy. Daddy’s proud of you, baby boy. You did exactly as you were told. Even kept quiet. My good boy.” I knew that my cum was probably going to soak through my pants, but I didn’t care at the moment. My jeans were black, and the room was dim.

“That… that just happened,” I murmured, my breathing somewhat quick.

He chuckled. “Yes, it did. Here, drink some water.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and have a happy holiday :)
> 
> Next up: flashback from the team's perspective abt Texas


	41. Flashback IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hotch has a flashback.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS AND DESCRIPTIONS OF RAPE AND ABUSE!! USE DISCRETION! LIKE SERIOUSLY! THIS IS THE MOST GRAPHIC PIECE I THINK I HAVE WRITTEN SO FAR. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
> 
> I would say happy reading, but that really doesn't seem right for this chapter. Let me know what you think considering I did this off a request. It could have been better but I really don't know how much more detailed i can go personally. Thanks for reading.

“Every truth has two sides; it is as well to look at both, before we commit ourselves to either.”  
-Aesop

* * *

_***2 ½ Months Earlier*** _  
**Hotch’s POV**

_I was sitting around the table in a cheap Chinese restaurant in Austin, Texas with the rest of my team. Prentiss sat to my left, Rossi to my right. Across from me was Reese Benson, a man that had become an intimate partner of mine. The 24-year-old was the most recent member of the BAU and had been with the unit for around a year. I managed to steal glances at him, watching him eat and smile and laugh on occasion. Reese was around 5 foot 10 and was on the slimmer side. He had dark brown hair and the prettiest gray eyes I have ever seen. They were deep and complex, the shards of a somewhat broken person lying within their depths. Unfortunately, he matched the victimology of our current unsub, which made me feel more cautious. I had a bad feeling in my gut. Something deep inside telling me that something was going to go wrong._

_Then Reese was sighing, rolling his eyes as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. His eyes lit up when he read the name on the screen, seemingly content with whoever was calling him. Reese stood, addressing us as he got up to move around the table. “I have to take this. Excuse me,” he said pointedly, striding out of the main dinning room quickly and out the door of the restaurant to take his call._

_JJ looked back, making sure Reese was actually gone before throwing something out there. “Has anyone else noticed that he seems way happier? He was way calmer after the whole Knoxville dilemma after only a day, and I know he couldn’t have gotten Porter fired in less than 12 hours,” she said suggestively, pointing out her findings._

_Morgan flashed a knowing grin. “I think the kid has got a man. You can’t miss it somedays. His walk is slightly off, if you know what I mean. And I get it. That would make me happier too,” he said slyly, agreeing with JJ. **If only they knew. They should see how pretty he looks when he’s begging to cum.**_

_Prentiss scoffed, raising her brows. “What do you think his type is? I know he has one.”_

_Reid looked at the three skeptically. “I thought we weren’t supposed to profile each other?” Even in Reese’s absence he was coming to his defense._

_The three waved Reid off. “More masculine. My guess is that he likes more bravado,” JJ remarked, popping a bite of rice into her mouth and waiting for the other’s thoughts._

_Morgan shot her a look of surprise. “You think so? The kid couldn’t look Hotch in the eyes for three months. What makes you think he wants an alpha male? He gets nervous around them. My guess is that he goes for men who or more reserved like he is. That way he doesn’t have to compete for the upper hand,” Morgan hypothesized._

_I wanted to laugh. I mean it really was too funny. The team really didn’t know the half of it. Just two days ago I had taken the boy over my knee and spanked him until his ass was red and then fucked him because he had disobeyed me. Then I woke up with him in my arms the next morning and seduced him, and while in the process of sucking him off, he had called me daddy. And that, might I add, was such a turn on for the both of us, I fucked him again. While Reese was a very capable, independent agent, he was a very submissive, pliable boy when I got him alone. If he hadn’t figured it out already, I was very possessive. From the second he agreed to let me become his dominant, he was mine and mine alone. And I had read him correctly; he enjoyed having someone’s sole attention and care, even for only a few hours at a time. He craved it. And because of that he had already tested the waters; but he would learn his place soon enough. I would make sure of that._

_“What do you think, Rossi?” Prentiss asked, looking at him expectantly._

_“I think I don’t want to know,” Dave retorted, a smirk on his face._

_After ten minutes Reese still hadn’t come back. Reid was the first to pipe up about it. “How long do you think Reese is going to be on the phone? It’s been ten minutes.”_

_Morgan shrugged, taking a sip of his water. “I’ll track him down. I bet he’s just outside. I’ll be right back,” Morgan said, standing and walking outside to go find Reese. Two minutes later Morgan was back with a concerned look on his face. “He’s not out there.”_

_“What?” I asked, deadpan._

_Morgan reiterated what he had just told us. “He. Is. Not. Out. There. He’s gone, Hotch.” I pushed back and got to my feet, striding out the door and looking down the street, trying to spot Reese’s face somewhere. Morgan and Prentiss were behind me, looking in all directions._

_**He couldn’t have gone very far.** “Morgan, Prentiss. Walk down the block that way and try and find him. Give him a call and see if he picks up,” I ordered firmly, striding in the other direction. **This cannot be happening. Not again. The initial attacks were thought out and preplanned. The unsub couldn’t have gotten him, could they? Just have to find Reese. He’s probably around here somewhere.** My phone started ringing. It was Morgan. “Hotchner.”_

_“Yeah Hotch. We have his phone. He was grabbed. And if I had to guess, it was our unsub that took him.”_

* * *

_“Get Garcia down here. He’s leaving us trails on the victims computers and we are going to need her to go through them. See what we can’t,” I told JJ, walking through a corporate building and onto the street. Our unsub had left us a virus and a taunt on the last victims work computer, trying to manipulate us. Trying to make us panic. I looked out at the people walking around us, not a clue or care as to what was going on in their own city. Lost within their own lives. **If only I had the privilege. Amazing work, Hotchner. First Reid, now Reese. Reid could outsmart Tobias. Reese won’t be able to think on his feet and work around this unsub. Not with his history and not with what this unsub is doing. And even better, you let your boy in particular get snatched. Hang in there, baby boy. I’m going to find you if it’s the last god damn thing I do**._

_**_

_I was working in the conference room of the Austin PD when I heard Morgan yelling for us. I was sent back to that house in Georgia, living in a nightmare as we rushed to find Reid. I had watched Reid get killed and then revived. I had watched him be tortured, all while helpless on the other side of a screen. And here I was again. Helpless behind a screen, about to watch one of the members of my team go through some form of torture. And even then, it wasn’t any member of my team. It was the one who was so irrevocably damaged, he had broken down in his hometown and told me everything that had happened to him. And that was what had prompted me to make my move. And now the one member of the team that I had sworn I would take care of, was calling on every bit of strength he had to get through the hell before him._

_I walked into the main room where the rest of team was, all standing behind Garcia, watching the screen. I stood next to JJ; my eyes sharp on the image in front of me. Only it wasn’t an image. It was a live feed. We were watching what was happening in real time._

_Reese was kneeling on the floor, hands on his thighs with his head bowed, his body never moving. The only indication that he was still alive was the subtle rising and falling of his back that told us he was breathing. The room was silent, a small buzz from the microphone feedback the only clear sound. He was submitting. Doing what was instinctual to keep himself alive. I was praying in my head, although I knew a long time ago God had left me to behind to suffer._

_There wasn’t sound until there was a clicking, someone stepping across the concrete towards Reese. I noticed that Reese had started trembling, no semblance of noise leaving him. A deep voice rang out through the room, finally breaking the silence. “Why are you crying, little one?” There was a shade of concern, aiming for sincerity. I knew it was a trick. Something he was using to manipulate the shaking man in front of him. He was trying to blur the lines between abuser and caretaker. **Don’t fall for it, Reese. Please dear god, do not fall for that.**_

_Reese’s voice was soft and weak when he answered the question. His words coming out in a stutter. He was doing his best to keep himself together, but he was already struggling. “Ju-just… um… r-remembering somethings, sir.” I already wanted to snap the unsubs neck in half. Men like him got off on manipulating and then hurting innocent people. Tricking them into gaining some sort of trust before taking it away and then quickly supplying it again. In a way it was like a dominant and submissive relationship. But at the core it wasn’t. You didn’t make people submit through terror and fear. You didn’t manipulate their way of thinking until they snapped from the pressure._

_“You stayed in position while I was at work. I think you deserve a reward for being so good.” Another step forward. The camera was angled so that you could see most of Reese’s face and body, but not the man. You wouldn’t be able to identify much except for basic physical features that would ultimately lead nowhere. Until we had more of a profile, that is. “Have you ever been collared, little one?”_

_“No sir.”_

_Morgan tightened a fist, biting his lower lip to contain his anger at the situation already. “This sick son of a bitch,” he bit out, never looking away from the screen. This was a part of his end game. He was going to keep Reese as long as possible. Until Reese finally broke._

_“Head up, little one. I want to see those pretty gray eyes.”_

_Garcia looked back at us, confused as to why we were so tense. She didn’t fully understand the gravity of the situation. “What? What’s happening? How bad is it?” she asked in a rush, looking at Morgan and Prentiss expectantly._

_Prentiss looked at me, hesitating. “He’s perverting a common act of consensual bondage. He’s going to make Reese a pet or slave. He plans on keeping him. That leads to one of two outcomes. He’s going to sexually violate Reese until he breaks and can’t continue, essentially rendering him useless and leading to Reese’s death; or he’s going to break Reese down to the point of ultimate submission. He’ll break Reese down to the point that Reese is subservient to him, looking at him like some sort of god or power he can’t push against.” Garcia turned back to the screen, whispering something I couldn’t hear. I was tight with stress and anger, trying to keep myself impassive as I watched in horror. The inevitable was coming._

_“I’m going to keep you. Unlike the first 5, you do as you’re told. I own you now, little one.”_

_“Yes sir.” There was a pause as the man buckled the brown leather collar around Reese’s neck. “Thank you, sir.” Reese was still trying to keep to a profile. He was trying his best to do whatever he could to keep himself alive. I could hear the waver in his voice, betraying his attempt to look thankful at the act. He was terrified. Terrified and anxious. Reese was still looking up at the unsub, his eyes following and never breaking contact. He was fighting every instinct to fight back. He was forcing himself into submission in hopes of survival._

_“So well behaved. The first one always screamed. And the third one would sob and never stop. You, however, are the perfect pet. Already well trained and probably very receptive of training.” Then there was the metallic rattle of a belt being unbuckled, the unsubs intentions becoming clearer. Dear god, no. “I put a virus on the last one’s computer. You think your old friends are watching, little one? Watching your new life with your new owner? You can answer. I want you to speak.” I couldn’t hear the response._

_“Have you ever sucked another man’s cock before, little one?”_

_My fists tightened, my impassive mask starting to crack just a bit. Rossi spoke before Reese responded. “If you don’t want to see this, step away now. We all know what’s about to happen.”_

_Reese spoke, his voice audible this time. “Yes sir. I have, sir.”_

_There was an agitated edge in the unsub’s voice as he spoke again. “You’re a faggot, aren’t you?”_

_Reese was trying his best not to react. I knew that comment hit him hard. He was trying not to recoil. Trying to keep himself calm. **I want to break this bastard into a thousand fucking pieces**. Reese gave a small nod, his words strained. “Yes sir.”_

_The unsub took a small step forward, gripping Reese by the ear and yanking him forward. “Suck it, little one. No biting or I’ll make you sorry you did.” Reese didn’t hesitate. He was most likely dissociating, trying to take his mind somewhere else while he suffered physically. I wanted to rip my eyes away from the screen, but I was paralyzed. I couldn’t bring myself to look away. A wave of guilt and rage surged inside my core, my body tight with anger. I watched as the unsub roughly face-fucked Reese, groaning as he thrust in and out roughly. Garcia stood, rushing away. JJ followed her while the rest of us watched in horror._

_“Oh my god,” Prentiss whispered in horror. The sounds of Reese choking filled my ears. I could hear him struggling to breath. Struggling to keep himself together enough to survive. The thrusts came to a halt, the unsub reaching his release, cumming in Reese’s mouth. “Don’t swallow yet, little one.” The unsub pulled out, looking down at Reese. He was covered in spit and tears, his face damp and red from the violence in which he was violated. Both were breathing hard, staring at each other. “Open your mouth and show me my cum, little one. Show me your reward for behaving,” the unsub ordered firmly, waiting for Reese to comply. Reese opened his mouth, revealing the semen. “Good boy. Now swallow.”_

_I couldn’t take anymore. I stormed off, walking outside and trying to get control of my anger and guilt. I needed to detach myself from the case again in order to keep everyone together. But it was hard. **Jesus fucking Christ. Look at what’s happening now, Hotchner? Yet another person you care about it suffering, and you can’t do anything. You’re helpless. And now your boy is suffering. You should have sidelined him. He was too close to the victimology and now he is a victim. All because you were too fucking stupid to pull him off the case. God fucking damn it, Hotchner.**_

* * *

_The team was back watching the screen, waiting in tense silence for something to happen. Reese was kneeling again, never shifting his positioning. Never moving. Never looking up or around. Never speaking. “Little one,” the unsub growled roughly, stepping towards Reese._

_“Y-yes sir?”_

_“I’m upset. Someone came by my office today asking about you. I want to mark you so that they know your mine,” the unsub revealed._

_I turned to some of the officers who were working around the room. “Hey! Where are the canvass sheets and employee records for the other victims? Get me a copy. Now,” I ordered, projecting my voice. There was a few ‘yes sir’s, officers rushing around to get me what I wanted. There was the sound of a knife snapping open, making my eyes snap back to the computer screen. I watched as the unsub carved markings into Reese, something all too familiar in a way._

_“Bed.” I watched Reese stand and move to the side of the bed before kneeling and waiting obediently for the unsub. The unsub walked over to the bed, switching the camera angle. You still couldn’t make out any major features, essentially giving us nothing. He yanked Reese up by the leather band around his neck, forcing him over the bed and positioning him where he wanted him. My jaw clenched as the unsub unbuckled his belt and pants and then positioned himself behind Reese._

_“I’m going to take you now, little one. You can make noise. Wouldn’t want your friends to get bored while they watch.” And with that the unsub pushed into Reese, a blood-curdling scream emitting from the younger man. Reese **SCREAMED.** Then his screams started mixing with cries and pleas, begging the unsub to stop as he was raped. I stood there, glued to where I was, unable to move away. Then I heard something that ripped open a part of me. I could have sworn I heard the words “Aaron, please help me” fall from Reese’s mouth as he screamed and cried out in pain. And before I could process, the screen went black at the stream went dead._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. The next chapter or two will probably also be flashbacks. I want to build more off of this. We'll see though. Thanks for reading and have a happy holiday.


	42. Flashback V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hotch has a flashback (continuation of the last chapter)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: rape, violence, etc. Please use discretion.
> 
> The softer side of Texas. Well as soft as it can really get. Enjoy :)

“Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man’s character, give him power.”  
-Robert Green Ingersoll

* * *

_***2 ½ Months Earlier*** _   
**Hotch’s POV**

_“What do you got Garcia?” Morgan asked as the team entered back into the PD._

_“Well sugar, I think I’ve got something,” Garcia announced in a rush. We were still working in Austin, Texas; trying to find Reese and get him out of that concrete hellhole. “I was going back through some of the virus coding and going back through the stream and using Reid’s geographical profile I have narrowed down our unsub’s comfort zone. We might be able to find him.”_

_I looked over at what Garcia was looking at. It was a map with a circle that indicated where the unsub most likely was. That meant sifting through victimology and property records. We were right there. We could narrow that down. We did it in Georgia. We could do it again._

_Prentiss started asking questions, trying to get the area narrowed down. “How many single income households in that area? This guy will not have someone else in his life helping him pay bills. He’s a loner. And make sure you cross that with anyone who is a white male in his early 30s to mid-40s.”_

_Garcia started typing, going through her programing and compiling a list, narrowing our suspect pool. “We have 10 houses.”_

_“The house is going to need some sort of basement or storm cellar. He has to hold Reese somewhere that noise can’t get out or where Reese can’t be seen. The room is concrete. How many houses have something like that,” JJ said, looking at the list._

_“Three. Give me more.”_

_“Give me the names of who owns those properties and then cross check with their employment records,” I ordered, watching Garcia work. We were there. Three names and only one was correct. **Hang in there, Reese. We are right there. It’s almost over. You’re going to be back with us soon. Just hang in there.**_

_Garcia ceased her typing, rattling on information as she closed the search. “Walter Webb, 36, white male who works within the corporate IT world. He oversees tech for multiple firms and helps hire new people into firms. He worked with all of the victims.” Garcia put his picture on the screen. I had spoken to him hours before Reese was snatched. He must have seen Reese when he was looking over the 5th body at the dump site. **I’ve got you now you sick son of a bitch. I fucking have you.** “1743 Lookout Drive. He got a storm cellar put in last year.”_

_“Let’s go,” I ordered, striding away from the PD desk, determined to catch this bastard._

* * *

_I waited with the rest of the team in a hospital lobby, pacing as we waited to hear about Reese’s overall condition. He had survived but you don’t go through something like this without scars. Painful scars that would probably haunt him for the rest of his life. I couldn’t help feeling guilty and angry at myself for letting that happen to him. When we broke into the concrete room the unsub had been in the middle of raping Reese. Reese was screaming, writhing under him; Reese was crying out. Begging for the pain to end. Then the unsub held Reese in front of him with a knife to his throat, taunting us to come closer. And I watched as the unsub dropped Reese, letting him fall to the ground with a cold smile on his face. As though all of it had been a game._

_I rode in the ambulance with Reese. He had started sobbing when the team tried avoiding his question about the video feed. The shame and humiliation he was feeling was palpable. He had tried to fight with the EMT in the ambulance too. Trying to hide the cuts on his legs because he felt as though he had betrayed me. The only thing that calmed him down was me holding him. And I understood it. He had told me I made him feel safe the first time I had woken him from a nightmare. He wanted me near him to protect him. He wanted to let his guard down because he had near nothing left. And I would. I would be strong for his sake._

_I paced back and forth, trying to calm myself. Trying to make sense of the emotions inside me._

_“Reese Benson?” A woman asked, holding a clip board and looking at the group of us._

_“Yes,” I said, my words tense._

_“Good news. For all that he went through, he’s suffering mostly from exhaustion and dehydration. He has a few cuts that we bandaged up and some bruising. We also ran a rape kit and found pre-existing scarring, but he will not need any sort of medical attention for the physical trauma. He’ll be out of here in 1-2 days. If he wakes up feeling better tomorrow he can leave,” she explained, giving us a small smile to try and ease some of the tension we were all feeling. “He’s resting right now. Or at least he should be. He was also pretty happy to get his personal items back. You can see him when he wakes up or in the morning during visiting hours.” And with that she walked away, continuing her rounds._

_I let out a sigh, feeling somewhat relieved. Less physical recovery would be good. The psychological would be enough. He was already struggling before all this. We all sat down, trying to make more sense of things in our minds. The silence loomed over us, everyone exhausted and angry. A few minutes later Reid was pursing his lips, looking at his phone. He addressed me. “Reese wants me to come talk to him. What do I do?” he asked, looking at me for an answer._

_I stood, taking in a deep breath. “Come on Reid.” Reid followed me to Reese’s room, stepping into it when I gestured him inside first. Reese was looking at the door, a small smirk on his face. “Come on in genius. If you plan on chastising me, boss, do it later. I need boy wonder here to ramble so I can sleep,” he explained, trying to wave me off. **Cocky boy. Although I think I’ll let him get away with it. He kind of deserves to get away with it.** I gave Reese an exasperated glare as Reid took a chair and put it next to the bed, sitting down and then looking from Reese to me. Reid was nervous about the conversation that was about to happen. “Non ora, Aaron,” Reese said firmly._

_I looked at Reid, waiting for him to translate. “He said ‘not now, Aaron.’”_

_I spoke just as firmly, battling with Reese’s stubbornness. “You need to rest, Reese. Not listen to Reid ramble and never get any sleep.”_

_“Sto bene. Laschia che il ragazzo divaghi. Guiro che andro a dormire,” Reese said in rapid fire Italian. The biggest thing I latched onto was how his voice turned into a small whine. That made me want to smile. He was begging me for permission. **My whiny little boy.**_

_Reid went into translation. “’I’m fine. Let the boy ramble. I swear I’ll go to sleep.’”_

_I sighed, massaging my temples as I thought about it. He needed to sleep but I knew he might not if someone else was in the room with him. He was more than likely going to chat Reid up the second I stepped out of the room. Reese spoke again. “Per favore,” he pleaded, giving me those puppy dog eyes. I knew what he had said. **How can I say no to that?**_

_My face got stern as I threw up my hands, giving into his request. “Fine. But you need sleep. Don’t have a conversation,” I ordered, not that I would really be too upset if he went against it. He got a free pass for the next few weeks. If he wanted to be a brat then he could be. I wasn’t planning on stopping him unless I could talk him into following my commands, but I wasn’t going to push it._

_“Grazie!” he said excitedly, thanking me for letting it go. I lingered in the doorway for a second, looking at him and then finally backed up, shutting the door and leaving them to it. I walked back into the waiting room where everyone, short of Dave, was talking, trying to lighten the mood._

_“How is he?” Dave asked as I approached to sit back down._

_I raised my brows, trying to find the words. “He seems alright. I know that will probably change as the trauma sets in, but he’s letting Reid either ramble or read him to sleep,” I explained._

_Dave nodded. “He’s a strong kid. He’ll make sense of it eventually. He’s just going to need time and for us to be there to help him out,” Dave said, explaining the obvious. Reese was strong. Incredibly strong. He had built himself from the ground up, constantly pushing himself to be better than those around him. It was admirable and impressive. It made me take pride in him. More than I already did._

_Reid came back 15 minutes later, clutching his satchel and taking a seat next to JJ. Reid smiled. “He’s out like a light. He likes Russian novels, although he can’t understand anything I was saying,” Reid said, finding the thought funny. I thought about trying to convince them to go back to the hotel to get some sleep, but I knew they never would. They were stubborn when trying to take care of one of their own. I understood the feeling._

* * *

_A few hours a later a scream pierced the air. I recognized it immediately, the scream turning into begging and pleading. Reese was having a nightmare. We all jumped up, rushing down the hall and into his hospital room. A few nurses were already making their way inside, trying to figure out what was going on. I got into the room before anyone else, moving to the side to make sure I could see what was going on. Reese was sitting upright, his hands clutching the sheets with white-knuckled force, his breathing heavy. He was covered in sweat, his pupils dilated and his mouth open as he tried to take in air and calm himself down. He looked over to me, putting his guard back up but asking me something with his eyes. I knew what he wanted. He wanted to be alone with me. He wanted to be comforted._

_Reese started speaking to the nurse as I turned to the team, ushering them back out of the room. “I’ll take care of this. Go back to the hotel and get some sleep. We need it,” I ordered, pushing back the rest of my team. They would normally try and fight with me about it, but they were so tired they didn’t push back. I moved out of the way, letting the nurses exit the room. I walked over to the vacant chair next to his bed, pulling it forward as I sat down to be as close with him as possible, without actually sitting on the bed with him._

_Reese immediately let his guard back down, revealing his fear and brokenness to me. He was trying not to cry. He was biting his lower lip to contain the emotions he was holding inside of him. I took his hand in my own, squeezing it as reminder to both of us that he was still here and that he was going to be ok. I looked at him, my eyes searching his with my own pain and guilt and rage. Then he broke, a sob escaping him as tears started falling from his eyes. “Can I hold you?” I asked softly, looking at him with warm eyes that were meant to reassure and comfort. He gave me a small nod, leaning towards me as I wrapped my arms around him. He started sobbing, crying into my chest. I brought one hand to the back of his head, letting him cry there as I stroked his back, trying to get him to calm back down._

_I started speaking to him, whispering words of reassurance and comfort. “It’s ok baby. You’re safe now. You’re safe. I won’t let anyone get to you as long as I’m sitting here,” I whispered, kissing his hair and moving my hand up and down his back gently. He had his arms around me, clinging onto me with pure desperation. I knew what he was thinking in his subconscious. He wasn’t used to getting to be vulnerable. He wasn’t used to letting someone else protect him and comfort him. “I’m not going to leave, sweetheart. I’m staying here,” I explained gently. **He has a strong grip. Jesus Christ.** That seemed to put him more at ease, his grip around me loosening a bit as he calmed down. I think he was trying to convince himself he was still alive. That I was actually real and that I was actually holding him in my arms. **I’m not letting you out of my sight, baby boy. I’m never letting this happen to you again. I’m going to protect you. You won’t have to have a wall up with me. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.**_

_“If someone comes in here, we could lose our jobs, you know,” he jokingly mumbled into my chest, making me chuckle. **Still so sarcastic. Silly boy.** Everyone’s a comedian nowadays. “What time is it?” he asked._

_I looked down at my watch, reading the time. “6:34. The sun is about to rise,” I informed him, not releasing him from where he was secured to my chest. I didn’t want to let him go._

_What he said next confused me and saddened me. “I’m sorry.” I could hear the guilt in his voice. He felt guilty about what happened. He thought it was his fault and he thought I was upset with him. “I… I let him…” he started, his voice breaking as he struggled to fight another onslaught of emotions._

_I stiffened, trying to contain my anger at what that bastard had done. At how that bastard manipulated my boy into thinking I was going to blame him for what had happened. I blamed myself, not him. My words and voice were tense when I spoke again. “No. What he did isn’t your fault and I will never blame you for that,” I explained. Reese quieted, tensing up and trying to get himself smaller. I kept stroking his back, trying to get him to relax more so he could go back to sleep._

_“Do you need anything?” I asked in his hair. No answer._

_“Answer me, baby boy,” I ordered, taking on a more dominant stance with him. I was willing to let him get away with most things, but not sleeping and eating was not one of them. He whined and I had to bite back a smile. It was cute. It was also cute that he thought it would somehow get him his way. It wouldn’t. I couldn’t help my amusement when I asked, “is that a yes?” He pulled back, shaking his head emphatically and then giving me a small smile. One of those appreciative smiles that meant more than words. “You need to go back to sleep,” I stated bluntly. He groaned at that idea, a flash of anxiety and some fear glimmering in his eyes. He thought I was going to leave, and he didn’t want me to leave. **Oh, baby boy. I’m not leaving. I won’t leave you. I’m going to take care of you.**_

_“Baby, you need rest. The faster you rest, the faster you can get out of the hospital,” I told him, tilting my head and cocking my brows. He glared at me in defiance. It was one of those soft glares, not the ones he used when he was interrogating an unsub or when he was being assertive. It was a small, submissive glare that he only used with me. That he would only use with me. But I still wasn’t having it. He wouldn’t get away with trying to get out of taking care of himself. I gave him a warning look that matched my tone of voice. “Baby boy.” That made him narrow his eyes further, clearly not happy about it but laying back down. He understood I had a point, he simply didn’t like giving me the satisfaction of being right. **That will change eventually, little boy. You’ll learn. I’ll make sure of that.**_

_“Good boy,” I praised, watching him shift around as he tried to get comfortable, “I’ll stay here until you go back to sleep.” I knew he was already tired. You could tell because he wasn’t talking back. He wasn’t getting smart. I watched as he tried fighting sleep out of spite, but it didn’t work. After about 5 minutes he was asleep, his breathing deep and even. I sat there for a few more minutes, smiling down at him. His position made him look even smaller, revealing the submissive boy that I saw. He was on his side facing me, his body curled up in a fetal position, the sheets pulled up so that you could only see his nose and eyes. It was adorable._

_I rose quietly, not disturbing Reese as I exited the mostly dark room. I closed the door quietly, walking back down the hall where Dave was standing, waiting for me. The others were already gone. Dave gave me a knowing smile. “You finally got him, huh? How long?” he asked._

_I immediately understood what he meant. “Since Knoxville,” I replied, standing firm in front of him._

_“How’s he adjusting to it? It takes a lot of trust and we both know what he’s been through.”_

_I smiled. “He’s adjusting well. He’s tried to push back already but it didn’t work very well for him. He’ll be fine. I’ll just take it slower if I need to,” I said, pride surging inside me. I took pride in him. In my boy._

_Dave smiled. “C’mon. Let’s get back to the hotel. I am exhausted.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rossi really is a whole supportive uncle. Gotta love Papa Rossi. Anyways, thanks for reading! Hope you had a good holiday :)


	43. Adjustments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I looked away. JESUS WHAT ARE YOU DOING?? AT LEAST SELL IT WELL, DUMB FUCK! JESUS. I AM FUCKED. I AM FUCKED. He is going to be pissed and then he’s going to want you to fuck off. Job well done, Reese. He’s gonna hate you. Stupid. Fucking. Idiot. “Yep,” I answered."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is kinda filler and was written to lead to another chapter idea I have been holding onto for the LONGEST time. This chapter is bad (imo) and I will make it up to you in the next one. Jealous AND possessive Hotch will make an appearance ;)
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Happy reading!

“Every adversity, every failure, every heartache carries with it the seed of an equal or greater benefit.”  
-Napoleon Hill

* * *

It was almost 11 o’clock at night when Aaron had finished having his way with me. He had kept his word. He _did_ fuck the hell out of me. There was no way I was going to be able to walk normally tomorrow. “Do you want to shower?” he asked, playing with my hair. I was slotted into his side, my head on his chest, my eyes closed.

“No point. I have to work out tomorrow because I didn’t today. I’m just going to get sweaty again and I really don’t want to move anyway,” I mumble, enjoying his fingers running through my hair, “besides, you’re really comfy.”

He gave me a small laugh, no doubt a smile on his face. “If my boy insists,” he said playfully, making me give him a small laugh in return.

“Damn straight,” I joked, my voice lacking its normal strength from how worn out I was. Three orgasms over the course of the night took its toll on me.

“I think someone’s tired,” he said in a sing-song tone. I opened my eyes, tilting my head to look at him with a sleepy glare. He quirked an eyebrow, a smile on his face. “Was that meant to intimidate me? Because it is not working very well,” he remarked. I just let out an exasperated sigh and dropped my head back on his chest.

“’Night daddy,” I snickered, smirking.

He laughed at that, his laugh turning into an amused hum. “Goodnight baby boy.”

* * *

**_*6 years Earlier*_ **

_I was sitting in my 7th period class, waiting anxiously for the bell that would dismiss everyone. Dismiss everyone for 2 weeks’ worth of winter break. I wasn’t excited about it. If I was lucky, I could spend the majority of my time avoiding the bastard and get some reading in. I didn’t have any friends or anywhere to go, really. I was probably going to hole up in the local library and read through their history section. I wanted a more unbiased look at the world. I wanted to know more details about how humanity came to be. I enjoyed learning about things._

_I heard the bell ring, everyone getting up and talking amongst one another, moving out the door into the hallway. I stood, slinging my bag over my shoulder and walking towards the door._

_“Mr. Benson. May I speak with you?” my history teacher asked. Alexander Jones was his name. He was in his mid-30s, taller and slimmer, with a glorious mustache if I must say so myself._

_I walked over to his podium, waiting patiently for everyone to leave. “Sir?” I asked, waiting expectantly._

_Jones scowled at me. “Please do not call me sir. It makes me feel old and I do not want to feel old yet, Reese,” he reprimanded lightly, giving me a small smile. I just stood there awkwardly, waiting for him to tell me what the hell was going on. “Reese, I can’t help but notice you aren’t as focused as you used to be. Mind telling me why?” he asked, leaning into his podium as he awaited an answer._

_Oh shit. Oh shit. How do we play this off? What do I say? Think of a lie. Think of a lie._

_“Just been working really hard. I’m looking to graduate next year and trying to keep a 4.0 is hard. I want to make it to Vandy on a full ride,” I explained. It wasn’t a lie; it just wasn’t the full truth. He nodded, accepting that but waiting, looking for me to say more. I just looked at him, selling my lie with ease._

_He tilted his head. “Are you sure there isn’t anything else going on? You can trust me, Reese. I’m on your side here,” he coaxed. I just shook my head, my face not giving anything away. His eyes took on a determined gleam, searching for what I wasn’t telling him. He gave up, though. “Alright. Just know that you can speak to me if there is something bothering you. I’m here to help you.”_

_“Yes sir. Have a nice afternoon,” I murmured softly, walking out of the room quickly and straight into an ambush._

_There was an arm around my neck, pulling me into someone’s side and walking with me in an awkward haul. “Hey there, RJ. How ya been?” Sam asked mockingly, pulling me towards the male bathrooms. I struggled trying to get free. Sam pulled me into the bathroom, the stalls deep navy and the wall a matching navy color. Sam’s friends were already in the room, leaning against the walls and stalls, smirking at me. Sam shoved me suddenly, pushing me towards Josh Richards and Toby Braiser, both good friends of his. They caught me, holding me against the wall._

_“What the fuck do you want now, Sam? Please just let me go home. I have things to do,” I muttered, already pissed off._

_Sam smirked, sauntering over to me. “I just want to hang out with my buddy, you know. Is that too much to ask?” he mocked sarcastically, standing in front of me._

_“Fuck you,” I spat. His face twisted into anger, his fist thrusting forward and colliding with my ribs. I grunted, my breath leaving me in a rush. He punched again and again, never giving me a chance to adjust to his strikes. I was sagging against the wall, trying desperately to take in air._

_“Not so tough now, are you bitch boy?” Sam sneered, smacking me across the face this time. I slowly turned my head back to look at him, a look of anger and disgust on my face. A new passion burned in my eyes, anger rising and threatening to boil over._

_“Go to hell,” I said, quiet anger lacing my words. He could hurt me as much as he wanted to physically, but he wouldn’t break me. He was an insecure moron who was only appealing to people because he had money and an ego. At least I wasn’t going to peak in 11th fucking grade. His blows started raining down on me, trying to get me to break my will. He wouldn’t. He wanted me to give in and act like he was someone he wasn’t. I wasn’t going to beg and then worship at his feet. Fuck that. He was a prick and that’s all he would ever be._

_By the time he was done, he left me alone and bleeding all over the tile floor. But it didn’t matter. That son of bitch had proved he was the weaker man. And to me, that was all that mattered._

* * *

Aaron was the one groaning when my 4am alarm went off, signaling it was time to get up and get to work. “Time to get the day started, Aaron,” I said in a taunt, smirking as I shut off the alarm and rolled out of bed. I looked over, watching Aaron look at me with sleepy eyes. I turned on my lamp, moving around the room and over to the dresser. I gathered work out clothes: boxer briefs, black shorts, and a purple athletic shirt meant to wick sweat off the body and keep the core cool.

“Reese, it is 40 degrees outside. Please put on long sleeves before you manage to make yourself sick,” he ordered, watching me pull on my boxers.

I gave him a quizzical look. “Aaron I’m going to be running 5 miles. I’m going to be sweating after the first mile. It’s ok. No need to go all dominant mode on me,” I explained, teasing him along the way. I stepped into the bathroom, flicking on the light and opening one of the drawers. I didn’t bother combing my hair. It wasn’t going to look like a mess for very long and no one was going to care out on a running path at 4 in the morning. I started brushing my teeth, walking over to the doorway and leaning into it, watching the man who was watching me with raised brows. “What?” I asked around my toothbrush, stepping back over to the sink to spit.

He dropped his head back against the pillows, letting out a dramatic sigh and then picked it back up so he could look at me again. “I’m going to show you dominant mode here in a minute,” he grumbled. I laughed, finishing up and then walking back out to gather my phone and headphones. I walked over to where he was, kissing him soundly on the lips. “I’ll be back in an hour. I’m running at the path 5 minutes away from here. Don’t have a heart attack or something while I’m gone and don’t lock the door to the apartment,” I said, turning and exiting the room.

**

I stalked silently into the apartment, closing the door and locking it behind me. I was covered in sweat and had taken a small break in the lobby as to not be so loud coming in. I crept into the bedroom, smiling when I found Aaron asleep in the bed. I was 4:56 in the morning and he didn’t wake up until 5:30. _Slacker._ I stripped, throwing my clothes into my laundry and opening a dresser drawer, snagging some boxers and then slipping into the bathroom, closing the door behind me and locking it. I turned on the shower, setting my boxers and the leather collar on the vanity and then throwing a towel on the rack by the shower for when I got out. I stepped under the water, sighing as I felt some of the sweat leave my body. I took longer in the shower than I normally did, taking 15 minutes to enjoy hot water after a long 5-mile run. The cold made the run more difficult, but it pushed me to try and get done quicker. Faster you run, faster you can get back inside.

I turned off the water and started toweling myself dry. Once I was satisfied, I folded the towel as to make in fit on the rack and slid it on so I could reuse the towel later. No need to waste water washing something that is basically clean. I put on my boxers and the leather band, opening the bathroom door to find Aaron getting up, trying to start his day. “Morning bello. How’d you sleep?” I asked politely, coming over to where he was sitting on the edge of the bed and wrapping my arms around him.

He smirked up at me. “Very well, although that’s usually my line. How was your run?” he asked, the question asked out of genuine curiosity not niceties.

“Fine. I pushed myself a little but for the most part I didn’t really keep track of time. Just went at my own pace,” I informed him, appreciating his authenticity. He genuinely cared. He always had, though. I valued that.

He moved suddenly, his body on mine on the bed in an instant. I let out a squeak, completely unprepared for the fast movement. He laughed, a wide smile on his face as he leaned down to pepper kisses up and down my jawline and face. He pulled back, looking at me dead in the eyes, his demeanor warm and playful. “I miss having you in the bed next to me, though. I like waking up with my boy,” he stated matter-of-factly. I blushed, my face turning bright red. I turned my head, trying to hide my face from his gaze. “Not this time,” he muttered, moving his head under my neck and nipping at the skin so I couldn’t move away from him any further. I laughed at that. I couldn’t help it.

“Stoooppp,” I whined, getting even more shy than I already was.

That only seemed to egg him on. “Oh? You want me to stop? Stop what?” he teased, digging his fingers into sensitive areas and making me writhe, trying to get him away from me as I laughed. “Tell me, baby boy. What do you want me to stop? I’m not going to stop being honest about how much I enjoy waking up with you. I’m never going to stop complimenting you and praising you. It doesn’t matter how shy you get; I’m going to see all of you. That even means your face when you blush and get all shy, even if you don’t want me to see,” he asserted playfully.

He finally stopped, looking down at me with a huge smile. I looked up at him, smiling back. “Are you mine?” I gave him a huge nod. “Say it,” he ordered.

“I’m all yours,” I told him, meaning it with every ounce of my being.

He leaned down, nuzzling his nose against mine. “Good boy. Daddy’s good boy.”

**

Jack, Aaron, and I sat around the dining table, eating waffles because I knew how to win Jack Hotchner over. I was determined to get him to like me more than Derek. I knew I could bribe him with food. Jack had finished eating, placing his plate in by the sink and then dashing to his room to get his backpack together so he would make it school on time. I glanced at the calendar on my phone. “Hey, I have an appointment with my psychiatrist during my lunch hour today. I know you don’t like it when I do stuff during that time, but I scheduled the appointment weeks ago. I can’t blow it off, especially given… um, yesterday,” I said, toying with my collar.

Aaron nodded, accepting what I had told him. “That’s fine with me. I understand the need to use lunch hours to do things related to your health, Reese. Just make sure you eat today, understand?” he asked seriously, pointing out his expectations.

I nodded. “Got it, bello.”

* * *

My appointment with my psychiatrist was very… uncomfortable on my end. The session had taken a lot out of me emotionally and it was hard being open with people I really didn’t know. He knew I could profile him; he simply didn’t bother pointing anything out about it. Dr. Mack Peterson was the name of my psychiatrist. He was a reserved, attentive man. Not Hotch attentive, but attentive, nonetheless. We had talked about the fight or flight response I had during my panic attack and then talked about coping mechanisms. We talked about stressors and how I went about relieving that tension. I understood things from a psychological standpoint, knowing everything there was to know about the chemicals and hormones and how what effected what part of the body and how. But emotionally, it was more difficult to understand and then talk about in hopes of dealing with it.

I was feeling somewhat drained when I got back to work, wanting to get to 5pm as fast as possible. I needed to get my work done so I wouldn’t have to stay later. I got in my zone, not looking up from my work until it was around 4pm. Only an hour away from freedom. _God, 4 o’clock is such a bitch. I just need to crash on Aaron’s couch and take a power nap. I am exhausted._ But it was almost over. I was on my last report, too. I had somehow managed to get through everything and catch up. It was a god damn miracle. And thank whatever higher power was up there for making sure we weren’t on rotation. The chance of getting called into a new case tonight was slim to none.

I let out a relieved sigh when I finished the last report at 4:47, walking triumphantly into Hotch’s office and dropping the report in front of him. “I am done for the day,” I announced excitedly.

Aaron looked up from his own files, smiling at me. “That excited, huh?”

“YEP! I am tired and I am going to go back to the apartment and nap like no one’s business,” I said matter-of-factly.

He chuckled, pulling out his keys and tossing me one of them. “I got a spare key made. That one’s yours. I still have another hour’s worth of work to do. Jack is at a friend’s house and will be dropped off at 7, so it’s just the two of us for dinner tonight. Go home and nap.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” I muttered happily, “see you in an hour or so, good sir.”

“See you then,” he said, still chuckling as I exited his office. I sauntered to my desk, gathering my things and practically jogging to the elevator and then to my car. I was tired and ready to sleep some more. I was just drained and happy I had no ACTUAL work left. I made the drive back to the apartment, riding up the elevator alone and then using my key to get in the door. I immediately ran into a problem. _Gun and holster… I have no clue what the combination to his safe is. I’ll just put it in my drawer and then secure it when he gets home._

I walked into the bedroom, taking the holster off my belt and then taking my gun out of it carefully. I opened my nightstand drawer, setting the black leather holster inside and then returning to my gun. I took the mag out, checking the safety and the chamber to ensure there wasn’t an extra round inside. I then set it carefully in the drawer and closed it. It didn’t take me very long to strip out my suit and put on comfy clothing. I was happy to be in sweatpants and t-shirt rather than dress clothing. I went back over to my side of the bed, pulling the sheets back and getting comfortable. I tossed for a few minutes, trying to get as comfortable as physically possible. Once I found the best position, I fell asleep.

* * *

I felt the bed dip beside me, telling me in my sleepy haze that Aaron was home. I felt his fingers run through my hair, making me let out a noise of approval and contentment. I opened my eyes, smiling up at Aaron who had probably just gotten home. “Hi,” I murmured, my voice thick and deeper than normal from sleep.

Aaron gave me a small smile in return. “Hi. I didn’t mean to wake you. You look really peaceful when you sleep,” he said softly.

I felt my cheeks heat up a bit, feeling shy for whatever reason. I still didn’t know why I was like that around him. There was no need to be. I just was. “It’s ok,” I reassured, closing my eyes again. I had woken up in the middle of a later sleep cycle, meaning I was still tired, and my brain still wanted to sleep.

He stood up, walking around to his closet to start changing out of his work clothes. I turned, watching him from the bed like he had this morning. He shed his jacket, putting it on a coat hanger and hanging it back up. He lost his dress shirt and shoes next, walking into the bathroom and tossing the dress shirt into his laundry. He came back out without a shirt on, meaning he had also ditched his under shirt. He moved back to the closet, losing his dress pants next. I watched in delight and appreciation as he went over to his dresser, pulling out a pair of sweatpants and pulling them on. He glanced back at me. “Did you eat today?”

The question caught me by surprise. I froze, my mind searching for an answer. _Did I eat? I don’t think I did. Shit. I am in trouble. But I don’t want to piss him off. He literally just got home from a more than stressful job. I don’t want to stress him out more. It’s not like I didn’t eat on purpose anyways._ “Yeah. I ate after my appointment,” I lied, quickly panicking when I realized that I had. _WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING YOU MORON!? HE HATES LYING MORE, YOU FUCKING IDIOT! GOD REESE! THINK BEFORE YOU SPEAK!_

He looked back at me. “You sure?” he asked, searching my face for signs of a lie.

I looked away. _JESUS WHAT ARE YOU DOING?? AT LEAST SELL IT WELL, DUMB FUCK! JESUS. I AM FUCKED. I AM FUCKED. He is going to be pissed and then he’s going to want you to fuck off. Job well done, Reese. He’s gonna hate you. Stupid. Fucking. Idiot._ “Yep,” I answered.

“Lying now, are we?” he asked sternly, his eyes reading me like a book. He turned to face me, putting his shirt on and then crossing his arms across his chest. I swallowed, my panic building. _He’s pissed. He’s pissed and he’s going to fucking hate you. Then he’s gonna wanna leave you. God, Reese! Why are you so fucking stupid? Jesus Christ._

“Baby boy, you know better than to lie to me. That was one of the first rules I gave you,” he said, his agitation palpable. He took a step towards where I was laying. I immediately, pushed up, pushing back out of instinct. My heart was pounding in my chest, irrational fear and panic taking over. _Why are you freaking out? Why are we scared? He’s not going to hurt you, dumbass. It’s Aaron. Stop freaking out._

**_You don’t know he won’t. We can’t trust anyone._ **

_Will you shut up? Just leave me the fuck alone._

My eyes were wide, panic apparent in my irises. Aaron softened, immediately letting go of his frustration. “Hey,” he said, stepping over to me cautiously and sitting on the bed, “I’m not going to leave you or get angry with you. You’re safe with me.” My breathing was quick, my heart rate faster than it should be. I searched his eyes with caution, trying to decide on my next move. I was moving over to him before I truly processed what I was doing. “Come on. Sit in my lap, baby,” he instructed, moving back to lean against the headboard so I could sit in his lap. I climbed into his lap with caution, trying to gauge if he was upset or not. I was too panicked to really tell. I tucked my head into the crook of his neck, clinging onto him. He brought his arms around me, holding me to him.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured quietly, my voice small and timid.

“Why’d you try to lie to me?” he asked expectantly, wanting an answer. He was still being gentle, which I appreciated.

I swallowed, thinking about how I wanted to word my explanation. “I panicked. I didn’t skip eating on purpose, but I didn’t want to freak you out. I had a long day and then the question caught me by surprise. And I panicked. I just freaked out,” I said quietly, before adding, “I didn’t want to upset you or for you to be upset at me. I wasn’t trying to break the rules. It just… happened.”

Aaron sighed. He was profiling me. I didn’t have the courage to say anything about it. I had just done something he didn’t tolerate and didn’t appreciate, which was understandable. “Baby boy, I understand if you forget. The rule is new to you and you had an appointment with your psychiatrist. I understand it slipped your mind. And I understand that the adjustment to our ground rules might be difficult because of how long you’ve had to be independent. I’m not upset at you for forgetting. It would be different if you had disobeyed on purpose. Now tell me where your head is at so we can work through this.”

“I don’t know. And I don’t know why I freaked out like that. And I keep freaking out all the time and I can’t control it… and I’m scared. I don’t want to lose my job because I can’t get a hold of myself. And I don’t want you to leave because you get sick of having to deal with me all the time,” I admitted timidly.

“Oh, baby boy… I’m not leaving you. Especially over something this minute. And you’re going through a rough time. It’s understandable. You’re starting to develop PTSD and things are starting to effect you more. I don’t think less of you because of that. And I’m not going to leave you out here to try and deal with it on your own; I agreed to take care of you, and I will. As for the job, you won’t lose it because things get to you sometimes. We just need to take this battle one step at a time. Understand?”

I nodded, still feeling slightly insecure and immensely guilty. I hated myself in that moment; more than I normally did, anyway. “As for the lying, I don’t appreciate it. You need to be honest with me. I’m letting you off tonight, but next time I’ll have to punish you. Am I clear?” he asked, taking back that hard edge to show he meant business.

“Yes sir,” I responded, “and I’m sorry. I really am.”

“I know. It’s alright. Apology accepted. I’ve got you, sweetheart. Daddy’s got you. You’re going to be alright,” he whispered reassuringly, one of his hands stroking the back of my head. I felt his fingers run through my hair, trying to soothe me. I didn’t even notice I was shaking. “It’s ok, baby. I’m not mad at you. Daddy’s not mad at you. I’m not going to leave you. It’s going to be ok, baby boy.” He moved, flipping us around so that we were laying down. I clung to him, settling in his side, my forehead resting against his pectoral. He ran his fingers through my hair, letting me just hold onto him.

“I’m sorry,” I repeated again, trying to purge myself of my guilt.

“It’s ok. You’re forgiven. I’m not going to let go of you. You’re stuck with me, baby boy,” he said playfully. I finally smiled, sighing as I pushed the negative feelings away.

My thoughts then went back to food. “What do you want to do for dinner?” I asked, looking up at him.

Aaron thought about it for a moment, his fingers never stopping as they slipped through my hair. “Why don’t we just order a pizza? You’ve had a long day and I need to take care of my boy; and I think my boy needs to be taken care of.” I just nodded in agreement. I did not have the energy to put effort into cooking. I was too mentally caught up in silencing the stupid little voice in the back of my head. That stupid fucking voice that never shut up. Aaron tried to push up to move but I clung on tighter. He chuckled. “Baby, I need to get up to order the pizza. My phones in the living room.”

I scowled. “I know, I just don’t like letting go of you,” I stated bluntly.

He grinned, eyeing me as I buried my face in his chest to avoid an oncoming comment that was more than likely going to make me shy and then blush. “How about I just carry you into the living room so you can sit in my lap on the couch while I order the food?” he suggested.

I immediately brought my head up, smiling. “I like the way you think, good sir,” I said emphatically, agreeing with him. He laughed while I let him stand. Before I could much else, I was grabbed up. I laughed, throwing my legs around his waist so I wouldn’t fall. Aaron sat me on the couch and then grabbed his phone before sitting on the couch himself. I just laid there, dropping my head back to rest on his thighs. His phone dinged and then dinged again. Group messaging. Oh lord.

He read the screen. “The team wants to go out Friday night,” he informed me, looking down at me.

I remembered the bet he had made about finding a one-night stand. This could easily be a perfect opportunity to make him jealous. “I’m in if you are,” I said back. After confirming plans with the team we went back to pizza and debating what to watch on the TV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A night out? A bet? Wow... I wonder what that could lead to... hehe


	44. Possessiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I peered over at Aaron who was smiling and talking to Emily. “See that guy over there? Dark gray dress shirt, black hair? Sitting next to the woman at the table?” I asked, trying to point him out. Jasper nodded, looking at him and then looking at me as to not give us away. 'That, my dear friend, is my boss. We also happen to be sleeping together. The woman next to him is one of our coworkers. They don’t know we are fucking each other. Because they don’t know, our team suggested I ‘get a date.’ My boss agreed, challenging me. I am now trying to tease him and make him jealous as payback.'"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehe... oh lord what have I done? This is pure filth. Like a ridiculous amount of pornographic content. I know I keep coming back to impact play, but I am a whore for pain, so that's your problem now. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy jealous Hotch. And possessive Hotch. ;)

“Any intelligent fool can make things bigger and more complex… it takes a touch of genius- and a lot of courage to move in the opposite direction.”  
-E. F. Schumacher

* * *

I opted to skip my morning workout when Friday morning rolled around, hitting stop on my alarm and then rolling back over to go back to sleep. I scooted forward, tucking around Aaron who was stirring in front of me but still trying to stay asleep. I was going to need as much energy as possible for the night that was inevitable. Besides, I had a plan. An evil plan, might I add. I curled back up, wrapping around Aaron and closing my eyes again, going back to sleep until 5:30.

When the 5:30 alarm went off, I did not want to get out of bed. Mostly because that meant letting go of Aaron. I was extremely comfortable, and work did not sound as nice as sleeping in. “Work is overrated,” I mumbled into Aaron’s neck. I could tell he was rolling his eyes in exasperation, although he didn’t disagree with the sentiment. I knew his opinion on it would change when he fully woke up, however. Aaron Hotchner didn’t become unit chief because he blew work off or didn’t put in as much effort as he possibly could. He had a drive. Motivation. Ambition. Focus. Determination. When he said he would do something, he meant it; he would reach his goal by any means necessary. It was something I understood. I had worked incredibly hard to make it everywhere I got in my life.

“We sort of _have_ to go to work. That’s kind of the point of having a job, you know,” Aaron mumbled sarcastically.

I tilted my head back and looked at him with narrow eyes. “Aaron Hotchner using sarcasm? And I thought I’d never see the day,” I teased.

He arched a brow. “You’re going to make us late if you keep teasing me like that,” he stated bluntly.

“Why?” I asked, confused by what he meant.

He leaned in, his breath hot on my ear and neck. “Because I’m going to spank you if you keep running your mouth,” he murmured. He pulled back to look at my face, which had twisted into an unimpressed look. One: because I thought that was a stupid thing to get spanked over. Two: because I could tell he was joking; he would have to save his libido for tonight and he knew it. Three: because I enjoyed pain. It wasn’t a heavy threat if I enjoyed what he was doing. If anything, it would egg me on.

“I’m shaking,” I shot back, bratty sarcasm dripping from every ounce of me, “save that for when we get buzzed and want to fuck each other later.” He laughed at that, untangling himself from me and getting out of bed. I reluctantly did the same, sighing as I padded over to the closet and started gathering clothes. I pulled out a pair of dark gray slacks and a black turtleneck, opting for a sweater over a dress shirt. I hung them on the door handle, taking off my shirt and tossing it in my laundry. I heard a whistle from behind me, Aaron sitting on the bed pulling on dress socks. “Don’t even think about it, fiend,” I remarked authoritatively. _Although, I could use this opportunity to my advantage. We’ll see._

I went to grab my belt from where it was draped over my tie rack, “dropping it” and then bending down to retrieve it. I could feel Aaron staring at me from behind. I had to bite back a laugh, finding it incredibly funny. I heard him clear his throat as I stood back up, turning around and looking at him as though I hadn’t done anything at all. “What?” I asked innocently.

His face was impassive, but I could see the gears turning. “I know what you’re doing,” he said matter-of-factly.

I looked back with a skeptical look on my face. “What? Picking my belt up off the floor because I dropped it? Congrats, you have eyes,” I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes in the most _disrespectful_ way possible. I put my slacks on and put my belt on, throwing the turtleneck over my head.

“Is that how today is going to go?” he asked, standing up to put his own slacks on.

“Aaron, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m literally just getting dressed,” I replied, trying to act as innocent as possible. He muttered something under his breath while I took his place on the bed and pulled my own socks on. _This is going to be fun._

* * *

I sat across from Spencer and JJ, the club crowded and incredibly loud. We had been there for only about an hour, people continuing to flow in and out. Aaron and I had drove back to the apartment and changed and then taken an Uber to the club so neither of us would have to DD or have the opportunity to drive drunk. I was in black jeans and dark green t-shirt, something more casual for clubbing. I was not on the prowl, my attire showing that off. Even with that though, women still tried throwing themselves at me for some reason; trying to catch me by myself and talk me up enough to get my number. I had politely declined each of them, trying to make them catch a hint.

“I’m going to dance. Coming Spence?” JJ asked, slipping off her chair and waiting patiently.

“JJ, I do not dance. We both know that,” Spencer said in reply, trying to wiggle his way out of her oncoming demand.

I grinned wickedly at Spencer, standing up myself. “I think I’m going to get another drink. Good luck, genius,” I declared, ignoring the pleading look from Spencer and walking to the bar. I took a stool, positioning myself where I got a direct line of sight to Aaron, who was now taking a seat and sipping what I assumed was scotch. I flagged down the bartender. “Jack Daniels, double, on the rocks, please sir,” I ordered politely, smiling as he went to make my drink.

Someone slid into the stool next to mine, putting his elbows on the bar and smiling at me. “Buy you a drink?” the mystery man asked, giving me a smile that could lure an angel into hell. The man was 6 foot, broader than I was but not by much. He had brown hair, although the color was darker than mine. His jawline was exceptionally defined, and he was toned but still very muscular. What was truly striking about him was his emerald green irises.

I cocked a brow, smirking. “Why do you think I swing that way?” I pondered.

He tilted his head, thinking about his answer. “I’ve seen you turn down about 20 women. Each one prettier than the last, too. I assumed that since you aren’t taking them up you are either: taken and were dragged out by your friends, or that you must swing for the other team. Am I right?”

I stuck my hand out for a shake. “Perceptive. I like it. Reese Benson,” I said politely.

He took my hand, shaking it firmly. “Jasper O’Brien. Now, am I right? You didn’t answer my question.”

I nodded. “You are, good sir. I swing for the men’s team.”

“Then can I buy you that drink?”

I grinned, accepting my drink from the bartender and taking a sip. “You could, but I must warn you, I am taken. I can, however, offer friendship and the possibility of helping me make said person jealous,” I offered, cocking my head to the side.

Jasper’s grin got wider, nodding his approval as he spoke. “You, my friend, are evil. I like it. Who am I trying to make jealous and why?” he asked, looking at me with mischievous eyes.

I peered over at Aaron who was smiling and talking to Emily. “See that guy over there? Dark gray dress shirt, black hair? Sitting next to the woman at the table?” I asked, trying to point him out. Jasper nodded, looking at him and then looking at me as to not give us away. “That, my dear friend, is my boss. We also happen to be sleeping together. The woman next to him is one of our coworkers. They don’t know we are fucking each other. Because they don’t know, our team suggested I ‘get a date.’ My boss agreed, challenging me. I am now trying to tease him and make him jealous as payback.”

Jasper looked at me with a devilish smirk. “I like your style. Tell me my limits. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I do want to achieve our goal.”

“Friendly touching. Maybe some pet names. I’ll introduce the two of you. In exchange, I will buy you a drink and give you my number for a possible dinner as a thank you. Deal?” I asked, rolling with the punches as I continued to plan.

Jasper nodded. “Deal.” I flagged down the bartender again, letting Jasper order his drink. He ordered a blue moon. He then started taking up his side of the bargain, touching my arm and putting a hand on my shoulder as we talked and waited for his beer. I glanced at Aaron, who was trying not to look like he wasn’t staring daggers into me in front of our coworkers. By that time, the girls and Derek were at our table, most likely talking about whether to order a round of shots. Jasper leaned in, “how am I doing so far?”

I smiled. “Very well. He’s currently trying to act like he’s not staring. I think it’s time for introductions. Just remember, you can’t speak a word of this whole deal and reasoning behind said deal to anyone. We could lose our jobs.”

“Got it.” We stood, taking our drinks. Jasper put his arm around my shoulders, walking beside me over to where the team was. Their heads turned when we got within 5 feet of them, broad smiles on their faces at the sight of me and another man. Aaron was forcing a smile. _He is jealous. Paybacks a bitch, isn’t it? This is going to be incredibly fun. For me, at least. But hey. He shouldn’t have challenged me in the first place._

I took the lead, stopping as we got to where everyone was standing. “Jasper, this is: Emily Prentiss, Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan, Penelope Garcia, Jennifer Jareau, and Aaron Hotchner. Team, this is Jasper O’Brien.” Jasper extended a hand, shaking Derek’s as the team just smiled at me.

Derek piped up first. “I thought you said this wasn’t your thing?” he teased.

I rolled my eyes, chuckling. “Guess I’m a liar, huh?” I shot back.

The group collectively nodded. My eyes darted to Aaron, who was resisting the urge to pull us apart it seemed. I could tell he was getting jealous already. Aaron was possessive. Extremely possessive. Hell, I was wearing his collar around my left wrist. I smirked at him, turning back to the team and our conversation.

JJ started asking questions like the mother she was. Also, as the nosy woman she was. “What do you do for a living, Jasper?” she asked, trying to engage in small talk. I hadn’t asked so I looked at him, genuinely curious. I still wanted to get to know him.

He took a sip of his beer, dropping his arm off my shoulder and interlacing our fingers. “I’m an accountant. I work at a firm a few blocks from here. You?”

“Well, Jasper,” I started, “you happen to be looking at a team of FBI profilers. Sorry I didn’t warn you.”

He laughed, grinning. “No problem, darlin’. It must be interesting work. More interesting than balancing check books and looking at numbers all day,” he said, waving it off. I could see Aaron getting more physically worked up, his micro expressions slipping for a moment. It was hard not to laugh at. He didn’t like another man calling me by something other than my name.

Spencer nodded, starting to ramble. “It can be. The Behavioral Analysis Unit is a part of the NCAVC, or National Center for the Analysis of Violent Crime, and has a lot of interesting—”

Derek cut him off. “Reid, you don’t want to ruin Reese’s chances by talking his dates ear off.” Spencer pursed his lips, shooting Derek an annoyed look. I knew Spencer didn’t mind, though. Spencer never took that sort of thing personally. He could actually swing women pretty well. He was charming and sweet, and women liked that.

Jasper laughed, giving Spencer a fond smile. “I don’t mind. I asked, he was just giving me answers. I respect that,” Jasper said firmly. Spencer smiled and then gave Derek an ‘I told you so’ look.

Derek pointed at him, giving him a warning look. “Don’t make me show you up, pretty boy. I’ll do it, too,” Derek threatened playfully. Spencer scoffed in response, taking a sip of his water.

I heard the cords of a guitar beginning to play, making me give a small nod in time with it. “Fan of the music, babe?” Jasper asked, cocking a brow.

“Yeah. I’m a music person,” I responded.

Jasper smiled at that. “Me too. I play guitar in my free time. It’s good for the soul. At least that’s what my dad tells me,” he remarked.

I gave him a surprised smile. “I play as well, although I haven’t been able to as much as I’ve wanted the last few years. I picked it up in high school. I would have gone into the music industry if I hadn’t already set my mind on psychology,” I added.

Penelope interjected. “You can play the guitar? You never told us that!” she said excitedly, somewhat upset that I hadn’t told them.

Prentiss snickered. “I won’t believe it until I see it.”

I shrugged. “You can believe it or not. I played lead for some school events and some parties in college. I wasn’t very social but playing guitar in exchange for alcohol was something I was willing to do,” I retorted, “and there are a lot of things you don’t know about me, Penelope. Just don’t go digging around, please.”

Penelope mumbled something under her breath and then turned her attention back to Emily and Derek. Aaron then stood, extending his hand to Jasper and searching his soul with his piercing brown eyes. “Aaron Hotchner. Nice to meet you,” he said confidently. He was sizing Jasper up.

Jasper made eye contact and held it, battling for dominance. He took Aaron’s hand, shaking it. “Likewise. Jasper O’Brien.”

“If you’ll excuse me,” Aaron said, sliding by us and then going on to do whatever the hell he was doing. I could tell he was pissed. He wanted to rip me away and make his possessiveness known. For once, he was the one who was bothered.

I lead Jasper over to a chair, sitting down and letting him sit beside me. I took another sip of my drink, savoring the burn of the Jack. I put our linked hands on the table, no doubt to rile Aaron up more should he come back. Jasper leaned in, his voice battling the music. “How am I doing?” he asked.

I grinned at him. “If you were successful, I’ll know when I get home tonight,” I informed him.

“You’re torturing the poor man. I almost feel bad. I have a feeling this is going to be a great friendship,” Jasper said, tapping his beer against my tumbler and taking a long drink. I laughed, taking a drink with him.

I swallowed, leaning to talk over the music. “I’m in trouble when we get out of here. I think you have accomplished our mission,” I said. I then gave him my number. He saved it in his phone with a nod.

“Shots, Reese? Jasper?” Emily asked, trying to tempt me into getting hammered.

“No thanks,” we answered in unison.

The night slid by, everyone having a good time and enjoying some much-needed down time. Jasper fit in well with everyone, except Aaron of course, who was watching him like a god damn hawk. I was only a little buzzed by the time everyone was saying their goodbyes and leaving. Jasper sealed our act by kissing me on the cheek when Aaron and I left. Aaron was PISSED. I could feel the tension radiating off him. I acted like I didn’t notice, finding the whole ordeal humorous. He didn’t speak to me the entire ride back to his apartment. Nor did he speak to me in the elevator.

The second I stepped into the apartment I was against the door, Aaron’s lips against mine as he re-staked his claim. He bit down on my bottom lip, extracting a small moan from my lungs. He pulled back, passion and jealously burning in his eyes. If looks could kill, I’d be dead by now. I put my hands on his waist just for them to be snatched and held over my head by one of his hands. Aaron pushed his thigh in between my legs, making me arch a bit against his hold. I smirked, winking at him. He growled, his mouth finding my neck and sucking on my skin. He kissed and sucked up to my ear, his breath hot on my neck as he spoke. “You were a naughty little brat tonight, weren’t you?” he hissed.

I grinned, playing dumb. “Nope.”

He chuckled darkly, nipping at my earlobe. My breath hissed from between my teeth. “Let’s count your offenses then, hm?” He pulled back, counting with his fingers as he listed my offenses. “There was teasing me this morning. There was rolling your eyes at me all day. There was drinking without permission. There was purposely making me jealous and forgetting who you belong to. And now, you lied to me. I think some retribution for your behavior is in order, because I can’t have you thinking you can break almost all my rules and get away with it.” He let go of my hands, pulling my shirt off and tossing it to the side carelessly. His hands went to my belt, unbuckling it deftly and then pulling me back by the waist roughly, taking us back to the couch.

He sat down, pulling my jeans and boxers down to reveal my semi-hard cock. He yanked me over his knee, thrusting a leg between my own to make sure I couldn’t get away from him. His hand curled around my side, holding me in place. I knew what was coming. His other hand rubbed my ass, a long exhalation leaving his chest. He broke his dominant mask, checking in before he proceeded any further. “Color?”

“Green,” I breathed out, incredibly aroused by the inevitable punishment I was facing.

“Safe words?”

“Copland: stop. Red: stop. Yellow: slow down. Green: good to go.”

He trailed his nails up my ass and back, making the anticipation build further. “You’ll take 30 and count them. You forget, the count starts over. When you’re done, you’ll thank me for spanking you and apologize. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I responded, smirking. I knew what I had just done. I had sealed the deal.

“That’s five more for forgetting your manners. Yes _what?_ ” he asked sternly.

I swallowed, debating whether I was going to push it further or not. Of course, I had a card that I was going to pull in hopes of winning some points back. “Yes _daddy,_ ” I emphasized. I could feel him getting hard under my stomach, meaning I had gotten to him. That made me smirk in triumph.

His hand caressed my ass. “Such a fucking brat. You have no idea how much I wanted to drag you into the club bathroom and fuck you against a stall. But you’ll learn. Every time you sit down, you’ll be reminded of me,” he growled. The first crack of his hand on my ass made me yelp.

“One,” I counted.

He chuckled, the sound dark and smooth. “Oh no, no, no, brat. One _what?_ ” he asked, the words downright venomous. He smacked me again in the same spot, waiting for me to correct myself.

“One, _sir_ ,” I corrected, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. I didn’t want to get myself in any more trouble than I was already in. I knew 35 spanks was enough. Aaron was a strong motherfucker and I was not going to push it more than I already was. I was bratty, not stupid. _HUGE_ difference.

“So, he can be polite. I thought you had completely forgotten how you address me,” he taunted, bringing his hand down again.

“Two, sir,” I said, defiance dripping from two simple words. _Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say it._

I could hear the smirk in his voice as he spoke again. “I suggest you drop the attitude before you earn yourself 5 more spanks,” he suggested, his hand smacking me again, this smack harder than the first two.

“Yes sir. Three, sir,” I said, trying to lose the tone.

He hummed in approval of my new tone of voice, no doubt smirking in absolute arrogant triumph. He brought his hand down again and again, leaving a sweet sting that made me achingly hard by the time we reached twenty. “Twenty, sir,” I breathed, “please.”

He spanked me again, laughing. “Please what? This is what happens to bratty little boys who forget their place. They get put over daddy’s knee.”

I swallowed, waiting for him to finish speaking before I counted again. “Twenty-one, sir. Please. I’ve learned my lesson,” I said, trying to bargain although I knew I was in no place to.

“You have 14 left. You know what you can say if you need me to slow down or stop, but until you say either of those words, you’ll take your spanking,” he said firmly, not letting up as he brought his hand down again.

I didn’t bother trying to plead again, knowing it would get me nowhere. “Twenty-two, sir.”

I thought I was going to climax by the time we reached 30. “Thirty, sir. Slow down, please. I might cum on accident,” I said breathlessly, my eyelids heavy with arousal.

He laughed again. “You better not cum, little boy. I’ll make sure your next spanking isn’t nearly as enjoyable,” he warned, making me shudder.

I was barely together when we got to thirty-five. “Thirty-five, sir. Thank you, sir. I’m sorry for being a brat. I won’t do it again,” I choked out, my breath coming out in pants. With that I was pulled up right, nearly falling over. Aaron caught me before my legs gave out, holding me in his grip and pulling me into his lap. I winced, my ass on fire.

I closed my eyes, letting my head drop against Aaron’s shoulder as I got control of myself again. “You took your punishment so well, baby boy. You were a very good boy. My good boy. You’re mine, aren’t you?”

I nodded. “Yes sir. Only yours.”

He grinned, satisfied by my answer. “Color, baby boy. We aren’t done yet.”

I swallowed. “Yellow. I need a few minutes before you fuck me into oblivion. If we start now, I might pass the fuck out,” I whispered, closing my eyes. I smiled, adding something else so he didn’t slip into dom-drop, “you did exactly what I needed. Thank you. Don’t you dare feel guilty for that.”

He grinned, kissing my head. “Such a good little whore for me. But you love it, don’t you? You love being put in your place. You love it when I treat you like the only thing your good for is being my fucking slut. I’m going to take care of you, baby. You’re not going to forget who the fuck owns you by the time I’m done with you tonight. You’re _mine_ ,” he whispered, making swallow in anticipation. My thoughts were going a million miles a minute. We sat there for a few more minutes, letting me catch my breath and come back off the edge of orgasm.

“I’m ok,” I told him, ready to continue.

He nodded his understanding. He stood with me in his arms, carrying me into his bedroom and depositing me on the bed. I winced as my ass made contact with the bed. I kicked my shoes off, knowing they were going to get in the way. Aaron grabbed my jeans, yanking them off and tossing them to the side. I watched as he stripped, taking everything off slowly. He reached into the bedside drawer, pulling out a bottle of lube and the smaller coil of rope. “Move and put your hands by the headboard,” he ordered. I did as he asked, putting my hands by the headboard but letting him move them because I didn’t know how he wanted to tie them. He threaded the rope between the headboard, tying each of my wrists so I couldn’t move from where I was. “Not too tight?” he asked.

“No sir,” I replied, taking in a deep breath. I was in for a very long, very rough ride.

Aaron smirked, kissing my neck and going down, licking and sucking on my skin. I let my head fall back, already feeling wound up. I heard the lube bottle open and then there was finger inside me, working me open. He came back up, trailing kisses up to my ear. “You’re going to be crying with the need to cum by the time I’m finished. I might not even let you cum. I might just take my pleasure and leave you edged and begging for me to finish you off. I want to see how many times I can bring you to the brink of climax and then ruin it,” he whispered darkly, making me let out a shaky breath. He prepped me quickly, obviously eager to fuck my brains out.

He leaned over, rummaging around in his drawer. He pulled out what I identified as a cock ring and snapped it on my dick. “Color?” he asked, making sure I was on board before he slid inside me.

“Green.”

And with that he was inside me, pushing in all the way in one powerful thrust. A moan was wrenched from my lungs. He bottomed out and then slowly pulled back before slamming back inside me. He quickly changed angles, thrusting in hard until I almost screamed. He had thrust directly into my sweet spot, smirking like an arrogant bastard when he did. He came over me, his hands planted at either side of my head. “Not so bratty now, are you little boy? I should have fucked you over the god damn table in the fucking club. Shown everyone exactly who the fuck you belong to,” he growled, his pace fucking merciless. I would have came already if not for the cock ring. I moaned shamelessly, throwing my head back as the pleasure built. He put his hand around my cock, stroking me in time with his thrusts.

I squeezed my eyes shut. I felt the impending orgasm before he tugged my balls, ruining it. I clenched my jaw, trying not to scream curses. I took to my ability to speak another language, although I did so quietly. “Fanculo,” I muttered, another choked moan leaving my throat as he pushed into me roughly. I could feel myself being sent into overstimulation, my cock starting to twitch as he kept stroking it. I thought my soul might leave my body as I approached my second climax… er, almost climax, anyway.

I whimpered as it was ruined again, need coiling tighter inside me. _How much stamina does this man have? I’m never going to survive. Holy shit._ Aaron laughed, cocking his head to the side. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Don’t like it when daddy denies you? Maybe you should have thought about that before you started acting like a brat and broke the rules. I’m going to ruin at least two more. It should be more, you ungrateful little whore. You don’t deserve to fucking cum,” he asserted harshly, still plowing into me. I wanted to beg but I couldn’t formulate the words to do so. I was already fucked out of my mind, my thoughts jumbled up and scattered about.

“Filthy little slut. Always running your mouth until I fuck the sense out of you. God fucking damn. So fucking tight. No one else could ever fuck you like I do. No other man could ever make you cum as hard as I do. No one else could ever pleasure you like I do. You’re my fucktoy and I’ll do whatever the fuck I want to you, you dirty little whore,” he spat, drilling into me and hitting my prostate again and again. I nearly came, the third one making me tremble with the need to actually climax. I was so overstimulated. Almost too overstimulated. I cried out, incoherent words leaving me.

I felt tears leaking out of my eyes, my body strung tight with the need to cum. “Jesus Christ… Aaron please. Please just let me cum. I’m yours. Please… Aaron please,” I pleaded, desperate for an actual orgasm.

He smirked in triumph, knowing he had broken me down. I was fully submissive, pliable and willing to do anything the fuck he said if it meant reaching my climax. “I think you forget who your talking to, baby boy. What’s my name?” he asked mockingly.

“Daddy! Daddy please. I can’t… please let me cum. I’m yours. Please just let me cum, daddy please,” I begged, shameless.

“One more. You’ll have to give me one more and then I’ll let you cum. You understand now, don’t you? You’re mine. _Mine._ And I don’t share what’s mine. You won’t let any other man touch you. Speak to you and call you anything other than your name. Hell, you won’t even let another man _look_ at you unless I say you can. You are mine and mine alone. Not anyone else’s. Just mine,” he declared authoritatively, still wrecking me on his cock. I let out a sob when my 4th attempt to climax was ruined. I was too sensitive. Too aware. I thought I was going to damn near rip in two.

He slowed down for a second, snapping the cock ring open and tossing it on the bed before resuming his brutal pace. “Who do you belong to?” he asked roughly.

“You… only you,” I answered, my voice broken. Tears began to flow as my body fell into overstimulation. I was on fire. It felt like pins and needles were pricking me everywhere.

“And why am I punishing you?”

“Because I for- oh my god… ah, god please… because I f-forgot my place and- haaa… made you jealous. I forgot… mm… forgot who I belong to,” I stammered, my heart racing. My mind was blank, the only focus being what was happening right now and what Aaron was asking me.

“And what did you learn?”

“Not to…. holy shi- ahh… not to tease you and not to forget who owns me.”

“Good boy. Maybe next time you won’t forget your fucking place, will you? Answer me.”

“No daddy. I won’t. Please just let me cum. I can’t take anymore. Please,” I pleaded, nearly being swallowed whole by the need to cum.

“Cum for me, slut,” he snapped out roughly, never slowing down. He fucked me straight through orgasm. He kept fucking me, his pace still just as brutal. He was chasing his own now. His strokes started stuttering, his orgasm taking over him. He groaned, burying himself inside me and cumming hard. He didn’t pull out when he started to untie my hands. “When you can move, I’m going to pull and out and I want you flip over and lie on your stomach,” he ordered, his voice gruff.

“Yes… yes daddy,” I mumbled in a haze, feeling fucked out of my god damn mind. I was in subspace, my mind practically fucking blank. Once my hands were free from the headboard, he pulled out carefully, getting off me and letting me flip over. I closed my eyes, my body exhausted.

“Plug, yes or no baby boy?”

I thought about it as best I could, finally just mumbling a “yes daddy” on fucking autopilot. Half my god damn brain was missing right now. I couldn’t form any more thoughts pass yes and no. I felt it push into me, my body not even phased at this point. “Are you alright, baby boy?” he asked cautiously.

“Yes sir. Subspace,” I muttered, “’m fine. Feel good.”

He chuckled, moving around the room and doing things. I didn’t know and I honestly didn’t care. I really just wanted to cuddle at this point. My bigger problem was that I wasn’t sure I could physically move. I heard water running. Aaron came back, scooping me up and carrying me into the bathroom and sitting me on top of the vanity. I opened my eyes, trying my best to get my question across with just my facial expressions. “I’m going to get you some water, ok? Don’t move. I’ll be right back, baby boy,” he said gently. I nodded, watching him leave the room. He was back with 2 bottles of water a few seconds later. He opened one, making sure I was actually fucking holding the damn thing. “Drink. At least half,” he commanded, opening his own and knocking the entire thing back. I drank mine, putting the cap on the empty bottle and setting it aside.

I watched Aaron turn the water off. He walked back over to me, unclasping the collar and setting it aside. He helped me to my feet and made sure I didn’t fall walking 5 feet to his bathtub. He got in first, me right behind him, wincing as the warm water touched my very raw ass. I could tell he was trying not to laugh. _Asshole._ “Je veux t’appleler un nom mais je ne survivrai pas a une autre manche (I want to call you a name but I won’t survive another round)” I joked half-heartedly.

He chuckled at that, holding me against his chest. “Si tu veux, tout de suite (you can if you want right now).”

I happily took that opportunity. “Putain de merde (fucking asshat)” I muttered. I closed my eyes, feeling drained. I was happy to lean against him, feeling clingy. “Mm… ‘m sorry for pissing you off,” I mumbled, guilt starting to consume my thoughts as that little voice started to talk to me again.

“It’s alright baby boy. You took your punishment and apologized. You’re a good boy. My good boy,” he praised, kissing my head.

“You sure you don’t hate me?” I asked timidly, albeit still spaced out.

“I will never hate you. I don’t think I can,” he stated bluntly. I sighed, still feeling somewhat shaken. “I love you,” he murmured softly. I swallowed, unsure of how to react. Not when a part of my brain was screaming that I didn’t deserve it.

“I… I’m sorry. I don’t…” I started, my thoughts falling all over each other.

“Enough with that,” he ordered softly, “it’s ok to feel apprehensive about it. It’s new for you. That’s ok. Don’t listen to that voice in your head that’s trying to scare you. I’ve got you. I’m going to take care of you. I’m going to protect you. It’s alright. Let’s finish getting cleaned off and then we can cuddle and go to sleep. How does that sound?” I just nodded. We finished up and stepped out. Aaron dried me off, sitting me back on the vanity as he went to get clothes. He came back in boxers, nothing else with him. I didn’t bother asking any questions, I just rolled with it. He put the collar back on my wrist and then carried me into the bedroom, laying me on the bed.

“Roll over,” he ordered. I complied immediately. I heard something snap open and then there was cold cream on my raw ass. Some of the sting went away. Aaron walked over to the dresser, retrieving some boxers for me and handing them to me. I slipped them on and then slipped under the sheets. Aaron turned the light off, coming back and then getting into bed, letting me tuck under his chin. He held me like that, whispering praise and encouragement and compliments until I fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	45. Internal Battles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I just wanted to disappear. I wanted to stop existing and for everything around me to go on as though I never was. “Sometimes I wish I never existed,” I admitted, a tear finally rolling down my cheek, “because I don’t know what I did to deserve this. I just don’t know what the fuck I did to deserve to live in utter hell every fucking day.” My throat started to tighten, feeling as though I swallowed razor wire."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of rape, abuse, self-harm, torture, etc.
> 
> Happy reading!

“Success is to be measured not so much by the position that one has reached in life as by the obstacles which he has overcomes.”  
-Booker T. Washington

* * *

I stirred when I felt the bed move. “Mmm?” I mumbled, trying to ask a question but not using my words due to my sleepy haze.

“I’m getting some water, baby. I’ll be right back. Go back to sleep,” Aaron whispered, sauntering out of the room. I smiled to myself, flipping over and moving into Aaron’s spot in the bed in retaliation. I nuzzled into his pillow, getting comfortable again. I heard Aaron coming back, stilling when he noticed me sprawled out on his side of the bed. He chuckled. “What are you doing?” he asked, setting his water bottle on the nightstand. I lifted my head, opening my eyes just barely and cocking a brow. “Move over so I can get back in bed,” he ordered.

I turned back over, letting him have his side of the bed back, grumbling sleepily as I did it. The room went back to being pitch black. Aaron got back in the bed, purposely pushing his pelvis into my very sore ass. “OW! Why?” I whined in complaint, looking back to glare at him.

“To remind you not to push it, brat,” he retorted, smirking arrogantly.

I narrowed my eyes further. “It still wasn’t warranted. All I did was roll over into your side of the bed,” I complained, feigning hurt. It was an act, of course, but I did have a point.

Aaron rolled his eyes, smiling. “Alright, alright. I’m sorry, baby boy. Roll over and let me make it up to you,” he instructed. I did what he asked, happily rolling over and settling in his arms. “Better now?”

I nodded. “Mm hm,” I hummed, closing my eyes again.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, kissing the top of my head, “I won’t do it again. You’ve had enough for one night. But you learned your lesson, didn’t you?”

“Mm hm,” I replied in agreement.

“Good boy. You’re mine, baby boy. Don’t you ever think otherwise. I’m always going to protect you and take care of you. My good boy,” he whispered, his fingers brushing up and down my back. I didn’t say anything, I just kept my eyes closed and enjoyed being held by someone. But like always, the voice in my head decided to pipe up, trying to push me into darker thoughts.

**_No, he won’t. He’s just saying that, so you won’t complain about being a fucking toy to use. Why should he care about you, anyways? You don’t fucking deserve it you stupid fucking bitch._ **

I scowled with my eyes closed, trying to will the voice to shut up.

**_You can’t will me away. I’m telling the truth. You know that. Don’t be naïve. To say that someone cares about you, the whole you, is fucking pathetic and stupid. When did you become so weak and ignorant? Did Daniel’s death teach you nothing? They always leave. They always abandon you. Every last person you think loves you will. Stupid bitch._ **

I opened my eyes, the darkness of the room consuming me further. The darkness was after me again. When wasn’t it?

_Just shut up. Just shut up and leave me alone. Please just go the hell away. This is different. It has to be, right? Aaron said he wanted me. He wasn’t lying to me, was he?_

**_What do you think? He’s a profiler like you. He’s yet another alpha male. They always just use you and toss you away. All of them are the same. What, did you actually think he loves you? No one fucking loves you. Hell, no one even likes you. Such a naïve little bitch. Stop being so weak and pathetic. Open your eyes, bitch boy. He’s using you to get himself off. He’ll leave you eventually. They all do._ **

_Please just shut the fuck up. You’re wrong. You have to be wrong. Why else would Aaron be helping me right now? He can’t be lying. Can he? God why can’t you just leave me the alone. Just fuck off._

**_When will you learn? The only thing you are in this world is a whore for other men to use. Why else do you think your still on the team? Because Aaron is using you in the only way people have ever wanted you. Stupid, pathetic faggot._ **

I felt tears prick my eyes, my body trying to hold the emotions inside as to not disturb the other man in the bed with me. I let out a shaky breath, trying to be as quiet as possible. It didn’t matter. Aaron could profile with his god damn eyes closed. Hell, I was wrapped around him. “What’s wrong?” he asked quietly. I didn’t answer. I bit my inner cheek, trying to hold myself together. “Baby, what’s wrong? You have to communicate so I can help.”

I felt numbness spreading through my gut like it was a wildfire, a sudden lack of feeling overtaking me. “Nothing,” I whispered blankly.

“No, it’s not nothing. Tell me. Now,” he ordered, becoming more authoritative and sterner.

“I just feel numb. I don’t know what happened…” I whispered; my tone emotionless, “I just can’t get the stupid voice in my head to leave me alone. I just want it to go away for a few minutes and it never does. I just can’t get it to go away.”

Aaron pulled me in tighter, his hand pressing against my back and rubbing up and down. I could feel the tears trying to flow. I resisted, trying not to cry. I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to do much of anything. I just wanted to disappear. I wanted to stop existing and for everything around me to go on as though I never was. “Sometimes I wish I never existed,” I admitted, a tear finally rolling down my cheek, “because I don’t know what I did to deserve this. I just don’t know what the fuck I did to deserve to live in utter hell every fucking day.” My throat started to tighten, feeling as though I swallowed razor wire.

“You didn’t do anything to deserve it. You deserve the world, baby boy. You’re an amazing human being; an incredibly strong and brave human being. Getting to know you at all is an honor. Don’t listen to what the voice in your head is saying because it’s lying. It wants to make you feel alone and weak. Don’t listen to it. You’re stronger than you think you are. It’s gonna be ok. I’ve got you, baby boy. Just let it out, baby,” he murmured, his hand brushing up and down my back as I finally let the tears flow.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, my voice broken and hoarse.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Don’t I?” I asked rhetorically, sudden self-resentment boiling over. “I tried to choke Derek to death on the floor of the men’s bathroom in the office THREE days ago. And then when Spencer tried to pull us apart, I tried beating the hell out of him. And instead of fixing my problems, I just try and ignore them and then I do something stupid! I do it all the time! And what kind of strong person wakes up and says, “hey let’s make their bosses life harder by being an addict”? I’m weak and pathetic and god damn burden and I fucking hate myself and I don’t know how to fix any of this! I mean how do I fix getting raped and tortured and abused for years? How do I fix this?”

“We just have to take it one step at a time. You don’t have to apologize for things that aren’t your fault. This isn’t your fault, baby. We’re going to figure it out, we just need some time,” he said soothingly, his voice taking on a softness he didn’t use often. He only used it when we were like this; when I was starting to breakdown and he stepped in to stabilize me again. I cried, the tears streaking down my face. I felt humiliated by them. Another reminder that I would never get to be normal. That I was going to be attacked by these memories until I died. The vulnerability of that scared me. “Just breathe, sweetheart. It’s going to be alright. I know your scared, but that’s ok. I’ve got you, baby boy, I promise. I’m going to be here for you every step of the way. I’m not going to let anyone else hurt you. I’m going to keep you safe. Just let it out, baby boy. It’s alright.”

I cried in his arms until I physically couldn’t, my face damp from tears. My crying turned into small, pitiful whimpers as I tried to shake off my fear. “No need to be scared, sweetheart. You’re just stuck in your head, aren’t you?” he asked. I nodded and then mentally slapped myself. _It’s pitch black_.

“Yes sir,” I whimpered out. I was drowning in my thoughts, everything hitting me at a million miles a minute. The thoughts were dark. They ranged from thoughts filled with rage to thoughts filled with anguish to suicidal thoughts. Thoughts I usually ignored. I didn’t do emotion well. Obviously. I always buried them, trying to keep them repressed inside myself. My entire life I had equated emotions with weakness. They stopped me from reaching my goals; and now my biggest weakness was that I couldn’t properly deal with the left-over emotions that had been festering for years and years and years.

“What do you need?” he asked warmly.

“Just need you to hold me, please,” I requested timidly, feeling slightly shy about it.

Aaron let out a small laugh. “So shy. But that’s ok. I think it’s cute when you get all shy. Because you don’t know what to do with yourself. I’ll hold you as long as you want, sweetheart. If you need something else, just ask, ok?”

“Ok,” I said softly, confirming my understanding.

“Good boy. My good boy.” I could feel my cheeks heating up, a blush blooming across my face in the darkness of the room. “I didn’t think you could get any shyer. Shy but still so eager for praise. You want daddy to praise you, little boy? Help you push some of those dark thoughts away?” he asked sweetly.

“Mm hm,” I mumbled quietly.

“What was that? Use your words and speak up, baby boy,” he instructed.

“Yes… please, daddy,” I murmured, my face getting even more red.

“Good boy. Daddy’s good boy. You’re always such a good boy for me. I should spoil you fucking rotten for being so good. Always so submissive and obedient. Even when you try and be a brat; you’re just an obedient little boy for daddy, aren’t you? You love being good for me, too. Always so good for me. My perfect, submissive boy,” he praised, going on for quite a while. Once I was settled down, he started slowing down, profiling my changes in behavior. “Feel better, baby boy?”

“Yeah. Thank you… I just needed that…” I admitted timidly.

“I know you did. That’s why I did it,” he retorted.

“Smart ass,” I muttered under my breath.

“Want to repeat that?”

“No sir,” I responded immediately, trying to throw as much respect at him as I possibly could.

“Smart boy,” he said approvingly, “now go to sleep. You should have been asleep a while ago.”

“It’s not my fault you woke me up,” I shot back.

“I know, but you still need sleep. Now try and get some sleep. Please,” he said authoritatively.

I smiled into his neck, squeezing my eyes shut. “Ok. Goodnight, bello.”

“Goodnight, baby boy.”

* * *

I was still tired when I stirred, trying to push myself to go back to sleep. “Hey, baby boy. How do you feel this morning?” Aaron asked, his fingertips gliding up my side.

I took a second to evaluate my body’s condition. “I feel like I got hit by a fucking car,” I muttered bluntly, “I don’t think I’m going to be able to walk. And my ass is raw and sore and sitting down is going to _suck_.”

I could tell he was grimacing. “Sorry. I was really rough with you last night,” he said, a hint of regret in his tone.

“It’s fine, Aaron. I wanted you to be rough with me. I provoked you for a reason,” I replied matter-of-factly.

I felt the bed shift and then his lips were on the back of my neck, nipping at the skin. My hips jerked forward when he cupped one of my sore asscheeks, my raw nerves screaming at him to stop touching. He grinned against my neck. “Your very red ass tells me you won’t be doing much more provoking, though, will you?” he asked teasingly.

“No, I won’t be,” I agreed vehemently, “that fucking hurt. I mean I enjoyed every second of it, but it still stung.”

He chuckled. “Looks like my bratty little boy is learning not to test daddy,” he said in a sing-song tone. I just smiled at that. His arm came around my chest, pulling me back into him. I winced as his hips ground into my ass.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to do that anymore,” I whined at him, trying to arch my hips and get away.

“Oh, did I? Too bad I want to torture you,” he teased, nipping at the shell of my ear.

“What did I do to deserve that?” I asked, my breath catching in my throat.

“You tried to get away from me, little boy. I decide what you deserve and when you deserve it. And right now, I think you deserve a bit of torture. So be a good boy and endure it for me,” he murmured, sliding his hand down my abdomen.

“ _Aaron_ ,” I breathed, trying to squirm away.

“That’s not my name, baby boy. What’s my name?” he asked, his hand slipping underneath the waistband of my boxers.

“Daddy,” I corrected, flinching as he teased the tip of my cock.

He smiled against my skin, satisfaction radiating from him. “There’s my good boy… already nice and hard for me… good boy,” he praised, his other arm snaking underneath me to pin me to him. I bit my lip to contain my curses, my muscles tightening as I forced myself not to move or react. “Do you want to move?” he asked, his fingers running over the tip of my aching dick.

“Please,” I said in reply, nodding ferociously.

“Please what? What do you want? You have to tell me if you want me to give it to you,” he lectured, his fingers trailing to cup my ass again.

I flinched at the contact; my ass severely sore. “Mm,” I moaned, “want you to make me cu- ah…make me cum.”

He smacked a kiss to my temple and then continued his teasing. “Yeah? You want to cum? Why should I let you cum, hm? Tell daddy why you think he should let you cum.”

I swallowed, small whimpers and whines exiting my lungs as he teased me. “Want to prove ‘m yours…” I whispered, “ahhhh… fu-fuck. Please. _Fuck… please_.”

He tsked and knew what I had done wrong. _Swearing. You’re not supposed to swear. Idiot._ “What did I tell you about cursing, sweetheart?” he asked, a new bite of dominance in his voice. He was in full on dominant mode. That meant possible punishment. That meant denial.

I rushed to make amends, not wanting to go through that. “T-that it’s impolite. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. Please… forgive me, please. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, sir,” I blurted out, trying to say something that would appease him just enough.

He chuckled, finding that amusing. Entertaining. Without warning his hand came down on my ass. _Hard_. I yelped, gritting my teeth as the sting took over. My breathing picked up. I felt sweat starting to bead on my forehead as I writhed in his grip, needy and sore and lustful. “Looks like someone’s learning,” he began, taking my cock in his hand and stroking slowly, “learning not to be such a disrespectful brat. Learning to follow the rules. I know what’s best for you, baby boy. I know what you need and what you don’t. Don’t you ever forget that. And never forget that you are _mine_. Don’t forget that you wear _my_ collar. You kneel and beg for _me_. You follow _my_ rules. No one else’s. Do you understand me?”

I nodded frantically. “Words,” he growled, sending a shiver up my spine.

“Yes sir. I understand. I understand, sir,” I reiterated in a rush.

“Words,” he repeated.

I turned a light shade of red, understanding what he wanted. “I understand, daddy. I understand,” I said quietly.

“Good. If you pull a stunt like what you did last night, I swear to god I’ll bend you over and fuck you so everyone knows who you belong to. You are fucking _mine_ ,” he growled, his fingers snaking around me until he was teasing the plug inside me, “I shouldn’t let you cum. Truly teach you your lesson.”

I whimpered. “No… please. I’m sorry… it just slipped. I won’t do it again. I’m sorry. Please just let me cum. Please,” I begged, need surging inside me.

“Awww… is my boy that desperate?” he asked mockingly. Usually his mocking would spur me on, but I was too pent up to find the will to be defiance. “So desperate for me. Only for me. If you want to cum, you’re going to have to work for it. Can you do that?”

“Yes sir. I can do that,” I said, nodding my head to emphasize my willingness to do just about anything to cum.

“Good. Now, get up and stand next to my side of the bed,” he instructed, letting go of me. I moved quickly, standing next to the bed while he sat on the edge of it. He crooked his finger, ordering me to come to him. I stood in front of him, looking him in the eyes as I awaited further instruction. He pulled my boxers down, letting me step out of them and kick them to the side. He pulled me forward, letting me straddle his thigh. “You’re going to grind against my thigh. No touching your cock. The only way you cum is from riding my thigh. Understand?”

“Yes sir.”

“Then get to work.”

* * *

_***two weeks later*** _

Work. Monotonous, boring, grueling work. We were back on rotation, but no new cases had forced us back into the field. That meant reports and consults and paperwork. I didn’t love paperwork, but I didn’t hate it either. It was boring but somedays it wasn’t bad. I was writing out a consult, putting details together so I could examine them further and then talk about the behaviors. That was until JJ announced a new case. I stood, stopping what I was doing and following Reid and Morgan into the conference room.

“Today we have men being killed in Germantown, Maryland,” JJ started as we all sat down at the table, “Joshua Walcott, 37. George Whitman, 42. Both were upper class, working with families. Cause of death was a singular slice to the throat.”

I accepted the file JJ handed me and flipped it open, scanning the contents. The men were physically similar. Brown eyes, brown hair, tall, broad. I flipped to the M.E. report, reading what the coroner found when doing their investigation. The slice was confident. Thorough. Clean. Other than the cut there was no other marks on the victims. Killing was the goal. That meant two things to me: either it was a woman or a hitman. There wasn’t a signature. It was methodical. Surgical. Precise. I didn’t throw it out, though. I wanted to wait until I had all the details.

Hotch looked up at us. “Wheels up in 20.”

**

Hotch sat next to me on the jet, caging me in next to the window. While we maintained professionalism at work, we still enjoyed being near one another. The last few weeks had been hard on me, so being near one another was nice. It was reassuring. I didn’t want to have a breakdown in the field.

“What do we know?” Rossi asked, beginning the snowballing of facts, possible information, and the beginning of theories.

“The victims were killed in a clean manner. The slice went through the artery clean. No other signs of trauma past that,” Prentiss said, looking onto someone else to continue.

“And the vic’s were both wealthy. Could be money related,” I said, latching onto a different side of the detailing. Money would be a part of it in some form or fashion. It usually always was when rich people were murdered in patterns like this. With that, Penelope Garcia blinked onto the screen. “What can you tell us about the victims PG?” I asked.

“Well, my mini genius, not much so far. I have been digging around in their closets and alas, no skeletons just yet. Walcott is a high-profile criminal defense attorney and Whitman is a shareholder within many different medical companies. Also, high-profile. But past that, nothing is triggering the alarms for possible target. Both men have families. Both married. Whitman had two daughters: Kara, 9. And, Jackie, 7. Whitman had a teenage son: Michael, 14,” Garcia rattled off, stopping and waiting for another question.

Reid pursed his lips, clearly thinking hard on something. Morgan noticed and prompted a theory. “Hey genius. What’ve you got? Obviously thinking hard on something.”

Reid looked up; his brow furrowed. “The murders lack a sexual component. That’s what’s so confusing. Matching victimology but no sexual anything and no distinct signature. It’s odd for the beginning of a serial crime,” Reid pondered, his eyes flicking back down and shuffling some papers around.

Morgan frowned, trying to look at it from a different angle. “Maybe they don’t know they want to kill yet,” Morgan suggested half-heartedly.

“Not likely,” Hotch interjected, “the cuts are too clean. They were confident.”

Finally, I threw my theory out there. “Our killer is a woman,” I announced firmly, leaving little to no room for argument, although there would be rational doubt as we still had little to go off of.

“What makes you say that?” Prentiss asked, doubt clouding her eyes. I wasn’t one for doubt. I hated when people doubted me.

My eyes glimmered with newfound determination as I made my case. “No sexual component. Confident. When women kill, sex and power are thrown aside. Killing is the goal. Historically women have always been better killers because they don’t torture. They kill and move on to the next. That’s the pattern so far. Until some sort of signature is identified, it’s more than likely we are dealing with a female unsub,” I explained.

Reid nodded, agreeing with the sentiment. “Reese is right. While some women have tortured, statistically it is unusual. We either have a female unsub or someone is being paid to make hits. No extras, just cold murder. But it wouldn’t make much sense giving the emerging victim pattern.”

Hotch nodded, deciding the briefing was over. “Rossi and Prentiss, you will interview the victims families. Morgan and Reid will visit the coroner. Benson and I will work victimology and coordinate with Garcia. JJ will coordinate with the local PD and media. We need to keep this under wraps for now.” We all nodded. Reid went to the case file. JJ and Prentiss began speaking with one another. Rossi started reading a book. Morgan put headphone in and listened to music. And I… I don’t know what happened.

* * *

**_*2 ½ Months Earlier*_ **

_I was lying on the cot in the corner of the dark concrete room, shivering and trying to curl into an even tighter ball. Tears were drying on my face, my crying finally beginning to stop. It was pitch black and cold and silent. And I was scared. So scared. My body ached. My shins and knees hurt the worst from kneeling on the cold, hard concrete for hours upon hours, each one more grueling than the rest. My neck was bruised and sore from being yanked around by my collar._

**_No. No. Not my collar. The collar. You aren’t his property. No. No, no, no. Don’t think like that. Don’t start thinking in a way that makes you his property. No. Stop. Stop doing that._ **

_It hurt to breathe. It hurt to move. I didn’t want to move. It was cold. So cold. So cold and dark and quiet. I shivered on top of the cot, the material making my skin itch. I didn’t scratch though. I didn’t want to leave marks and upset the man. I didn’t want him to think I couldn’t be useful. There it was again. That way of thinking._

**_Stop it. Just stop it. You cannot develop Stockholm. No. You are not property. You are a person. Your own person. Right? You’ll get to be free again. Maybe. The team will find you… won’t they? They must find you. They would never forget about you and just leave. They couldn’t… right? Right?_ **

_My throat was dry. Dry and sore. My eyes felt heavy, but I forced myself to stay awake. Sleeping meant giving up. I didn’t know if I would wake up if I went to sleep this time. Everything felt heavy. Everything hurt. Everything was screaming at me to give in. To stop thinking about being my own person. To finally just give in and break. But I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. I would die before I fully gave in._

* * *

“Reese.” I felt someone nudge my shoulder, my brain snapping out of my memories and blinking as I came back into the present. Morgan and Reid wore concerned looks, watching me intently. I could feel Hotch’s eyes on me, watching me carefully. Gauging my mood and taking notes on the switches in my behavior. My breathing was hard and shaky, my hands trembling in my lap. My pupils were dilated, and pulse was sporadic. “Reese, are you alright?” Hotch asked, breaking from his normal stoic self and softening. I looked at him, fear settling right under the surface of gray eyes as yet another piece of me slipped and broke into small shards. I was coming undone. Breaking apart.

I just looked at him, trying to calm myself down. Willing myself to stop overthinking. Hotch got the message. Rather, _Aaron_ got the message. Hotch stood and strode to the small mini bar, retrieving a bottle of water and coming back with it. He unscrewed the cap and handed it to me. “Drink,” he ordered, still being gentle even though we were surrounded by our co-workers. There was that familiar, comforting softness and warmth in his eyes that he only used when we were alone. I took the water, taking a tentative sip as I tried to stop shaking. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, seemingly ignoring the other two men across from us who were giving each other surprised and confused looks.

My eyes darted to them and then back to Hotch. “No,” I whispered quietly, taking another sip of the water. My gaze fell to my lap, my brain trying to shake off the feelings of insecurity and fear and slight humiliation. My PTSD was starting to flare up. Starting to get worse. And that scared me.

_Get control of yourself. You’ll lose your job. You’ll lose everything. You worked too hard to lose it all now. Don’t let them win. Don’t be weak. Just get control of yourself. Calm down, already._

“Would you like to talk about it later in private?” he asked, trying to give me more options if I did want to communicate. I just gave Hotch a small nod. He nodded his understanding but didn’t return to the file. He watched me. Waited for me to calm down as much as possible. He paid no attention to the others in the jet who were trying to hide how confused and surprised they were at Hotch’s new-found soft and gentle demeanor. Rossi didn’t even bat an eye, already knowing the relationship the two of us had.

I noticed JJ and Prentiss whispering, looking away when I caught their gazes. Reid and Morgan were trying to act like they didn’t exist. I handed the water back to Hotch, letting him screw the lid back on. I couldn’t bring myself to look anyone in the face, a small blush blooming across my face. I heard Aaron’s amused exhalation and knew he was giving me a small smile. I peered up to find out if I was correct. I was. I looked over to JJ and Prentiss, who looked absolutely gob smacked that Hotch of all people had smiled. On the jet. During a case. Around everyone else. JJ’s mouth was wide open, and Prentiss’s eyes were wide. I swallowed and looked down at my lap, my fingers starting to toy with the leather band. I always did that when I felt somewhat nervous or anxious or shy, even. And right now, I felt a mix of all three.

Aaron propped his file in his lap, his face twisting back into impassivity as he focused on the files. His hand reached over, his finger interlacing with mine and stroking over the top of my hand. I controlled my face and micro expressions, not giving away my own surprise. I looked out the window, watching the clouds. Aaron’s fingers slipped under the leather band, stroking over the words imprinted on the inside of the leather. Words that could only be seen if the collar was off. I almost never took it off. Only to shower. And we were the only ones who knew what was pressed into the band. What the words were. To anyone else, the only thing the collar was, was a leather bracelet.

Aaron’s fingers then stroked over the thin metal plate that sat atop the leather. His gestures were silent but possessive. Possessive and reassuring. He was sending a small message while trying to keep me calm. He was silently saying “mine.” Furthering his claim over me. I was more than happy to accept it. More than happy to slip into my place under him and let him have his way with me. Not that Aaron thought of himself as above me in anyway. We had mutual respect for one another. That was a given. But Aaron had me wrapped around his finger. We both knew that. I would bend my will for him. Only for him.

The second we arrived in Germantown’s police department, I was ushered into the conference room by Hotch. JJ was more than willing to give us sometime to talk alone, too busy with her own tasks to think about it. “Are you alright?” Aaron was back to his softer demeanor, taking a step back from our jobs and sinking into our personal lives.

I shrugged, my arms coming around myself as I tried to get ahold of myself again. “I… I d-don’t know. I was fine and t-then all I could think about was… w-was…” I couldn’t get the words out past that. I looked down at the floor, squeezing my eyes shut as I fought yet another internal battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)


	46. Return of Past Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I zipped my bag and put my shoes on, stuffing the card in my back pocket as I raced out of the hotel. I was only 15 minutes late when I practically sprinted through the doors. Morgan and Reid looked at me warily, telling me I was going to get it. My eyes snapped away when Hotch’s cold, hard voice interjected into the bullpen. “Benson. Get in here. Now,” he snapped out. You are fucked, Reese. Royally FUCKED."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter. Enjoy...

“Injustice in the end produces independence.”  
-Voltaire

* * *

“This is so confusing,” I complained, categorizing details of our latest victim, “PG, are you sure you didn’t miss anything?”

There was the clicking of keys before Garcia spoke again. “I’m afraid I haven’t uncovered anything yet. I’ll go back through what I’ve found, mini boy wonder, but I don’t know how far it will get us,” she said, not happy about being in the dark on the details that put this case together either.

“Any ideas, boss?” I asked, looking at Hotch in hopes of a new theory.

He shook his head, looking up at me with those piercing brown eyes. I could have swore his gaze could slice through metal. It was sharp. Attentive. Perceptive. “Nothing yet. Garcia?”

“Oh captain, my captain,” Garcia said in a sing-song voice. I smiled a bit at that.

“I need to know how the unsub could have come in contact with these men. Give me any possible whereabouts. Business partners, clients, friends… anything you can find,” Hotch ordered in that no-nonsense way he had.

“I will do that and hit you back at the speed of light. PG out!” And with that Garcia hung up. I returned to the papers in front of me, scanning the page and trying to find any sort of pattern I could in the victimology. I didn’t look up when JJ, Rossi, and Emily strode into the conference room.

“How’s it going, passerotto?” Rossi asked, stopping in front of the evidence board and looking at what we had pinned up.

“I want to bang my head into a wall. You?” I replied emphatically, scowling at the papers. There was a pattern, I just couldn’t see it yet. The details were too obscure… even for me. I pinched the bridge of my nose, already frustrated. More so at myself then anything or anyone else. “I can feel your eyes rolling into the back of your skull, Prentiss,” I muttered, profiling without looking up.

“Geniuses these days,” Prentiss muttered under her breath.

“I can hear you, you know that right?” I shot back sarcastically. I looked up, my eyes meeting hers expectantly. She smirked and I smirked back.

Hotch cleared his throat, making us both look at him. “Can we focus, please?” he asked, the question rhetorical with an underlying command. I simply rolled my eyes at him and nodded, looking back down at the papers and reading more. “What did the families say?” Hotch asked, directing his attention back at the other three.

Prentiss exhaled, shrugging slightly. “Not much that would help us. The wives were working during the day and said their husband’s were as well. Came home and spent time with each other in the evenings. Only evening they didn’t return was the night they were murdered. We’ll have to check alibies, but I doubt they were lying,” Prentiss explained. I sighed, exasperated and growing more upset that I couldn’t pick apart the pattern in the victimology.

“Pourquoi je ne peux pas comprendre ca? Quel idiot. Bon sang. (Why the hell can’t I figure this out? Such an idiot. Jesus),” I muttered to myself in French.

“Ne t’appelle pas comme ca (don’t call yourself that),” Hotch said back, monotone.

I clenched my jaw, glancing up to narrow my eyes at him and then returning back to the task at hand. “Remind me to hate myself in Italian next time,” I grumbled to no one in particular.

“He can speak French?” Prentiss asked, a look of surprise on her face.

I nodded, sporting a puzzled expression. “You didn’t know that?” I asked, looking at Hotch and then back to Prentiss.

She shook her head. “No. How did you know?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.

That flustered me. I made up an excuse quickly. “From rooming with him on cases. I started talking to myself in French and didn’t know he could understand me until he spoke it back,” I lied, trying to shrug it off.

Prentiss nodded, somewhat unconvinced. “Right,” she said, looking at JJ with a smirk. Rossi stifled a smile and Hotch remained stone-faced.

Reid and Morgan came to my rescue by walking through the door, snapping everyone back into work mode.

* * *

“Why am I playing an obscure role in the undercover part again?” I asked with a frown, looking at a very amused Derek Morgan and Spencer Reid.

Morgan was trying to stifle a laugh when he answered my question. “Because you are as smart as Reid and are strong. You’ll fit better in this event then I will. Besides, Prentiss will be your plus one while you watch the unsub,” he explained. Reid smiled, thinking that this entire ordeal was incredibly funny. These two idiots had managed to convince Hotch I was the best choice to go undercover to a high-profile event. I rolled my eyes, unhappy about it. I hated social events when I wasn’t working.

I sighed. “Let me go get my tux,” I remarked sarcastically. We had managed to find a tailor that was willing to rent me a tux last minute after we explained the situation. I walked into the men’s locker room in the Germantown P.D., taking an empty locker space and opening the door. I changed into the tux quickly, making sure I was put together when I walked out of the locker room and back into the conference room. The entire team paused when I re-entered the room.

“Damn, kid,” Morgan remarked, nodding in approval. Reid smiled at me, looking somewhat stunned for a second.

“Don’t drool over there, Reid,” I snickered, making him narrow my eyes at me. I had my suspicions that he was interested in men, but I wasn’t going to push it. It wasn’t my business anyways. Rossi gave me a knowing smile, glancing at Hotch and then just going about his business. “Can we just get this over with?” I asked, exasperated.

* * *

I felt exhausted by the time I got back to my hotel room. After four days of intense work, we had finally caught our unsub. A woman who was murdering men who reminded her of her abusive ex-husband. Yikes. I opened the door to my room, flopping on the bed. I had changed out of the tux the second I got back to the P.D. to start packing up and sent it back to the tailor. I was back in my normal jeans and polo, groaning into the mattress. I didn’t want to change clothes. I didn’t want to move. The whole case had been tiring. More tiring than usual. We had an early morning flight, too. Now was the time to pack up. I could sleep on the jet ride home.

And I did. I slept hard. I tried to brush Hotch off when he shook me awake gently. “Boss, please for once, go away,” I mumbled, trying to lean away.

Hotch chuckled. “Nope. We are about to hit the runway,” he said, shaking me a little harder. I opened my eyes, shooting him a sleepy glare. “Ride with me back to the apartment because you’re so tired.”

I shook my head. “I need to go get my mail. I still have bills to pay, boss.”

“Alright,” he said, smiling at me.

We departed with a plan to meet back at the apartment. I would get my mail; Aaron would get his son and we would make a quick dinner. I pulled into my apartment complex, striding into the back-mail room and searching the numbers for my mailbox. I pulled out my key, opening the box and taking the mail from the inside. I closed the mailbox and locked it back, striding back out of the complex as fast as I had entered. I got back in my car, tossing the mail in my passenger seat. The ride back to Aaron’s apartment was fairly quick and I let myself in with my spare key. I flicked the lights on when I entered, telling me that Aaron and Jack still weren’t home yet. Aaron might have gotten a little caught up in the office. It happened.

I leaned into the counter, putting my keys and go bag down and flicking through the mail. I paused when I got to a letter from the Elmore’s. My best friend, Elmore. One of the only people I connected with in college. I opened the envelope, pulling out the black card. It was an invitation. A funeral invitation. A funeral invitation to Todd’s funeral. I read the card, my mouth falling open in shock.

I searched around the apartment, finding some paper and a pen and scribbling a note.

_“Aaron-_

_Be back tomorrow. Need some space. I’m at a hotel._

_-Reese.”_

I picked up my keys and bag and the card, leaving the apartment and moving on autopilot. I took the stairs, hoping to avoid crowds and other people. I didn’t want to interact with people. I got back in my car, throwing my shit in the backseat and exiting the parking garage, heading down to the nearest hotel. I stopped by a liquor store first, buying some cheap whiskey. I then made my way to the hotel, the alcohol in my bag. I snagged a room, walking to the elevator and waiting. I pulled out my phone and turned it off. I didn’t want to be bombarded by calls and messages. I didn’t want to be tracked down. I wanted space. I wanted to be alone.

I exited onto my floor, opening the hotel room much like the one I had been staying at the previous 4 days and tossing my bag to the side. I went over to the bag, unzipping it and taking out the whiskey bottle. I cursed myself for not being smart enough to take my knife back. Cutting was something I wanted to do right now. I kicked off my shoes, slumping against the bed with the whiskey in my hand. My hands shook as I unscrewed the cap, taking a long draft. It burned, the taste of shitty whiskey overwhelming my pallet. I pulled the card out of my bag, holding it in front of me and just trying to take in the words.

_Todd is dead. DEAD. Your best friend is dead. DEAD. Not coming back. Died in a car accident. Gone. Forever. You can’t speak to him ever again. Can’t call him. Can’t see him. He’s gone. Dead._

Sickening pain twisted in my gut as I took another drink of whiskey. I sat on the floor like that, drinking and staring at the card as I processed. I don’t know how long I drank. I drank for what seemed like forever, stopping when a third of the bottle was gone. I screwed the cap and let go of the bottle. I got up, stumbling from how drunk I was. I fell onto the bed, crying until I fell asleep.

* * *

My head was throbbing when I woke up. I felt dizzy and sick. I looked over at the alarm clock, reading the time. 7:47am. I was late as hell. I patted my pockets, pulling out my phone and turning it on. I grimaced when I looked at the screen. 13 missed calls and 17 messages. All from Aaron. _I am in so much trouble. I am FUCKED. Oh god. What am I going to do?_

I was too scared to read the messages. I was too scared to call the man back. He was going to be so unbelievably angry. I mean PISSED. I got up, scrubbing at my eyes. I picked up the whiskey bottle, walking into the bathroom and pouring all of it down the drain. I tossed the bottle in the garbage can, shaking my head as I tried to wake up. I didn’t have time to shower. I could shower at work. If I didn’t get fired. I might get fired. Understandably so. I turned the water on, splashing water on my face as I tried to wake up. I had my go bag with me, thank god. I changed into new clothes and brushed my teeth, putting on a ton of deodorant.

I zipped my bag and put my shoes on, stuffing the card in my back pocket as I raced out of the hotel. I was only 15 minutes late when I practically sprinted through the doors. Morgan and Reid looked at me warily, telling me I was going to get it. My eyes snapped away when Hotch’s cold, hard voice interjected into the bullpen. “Benson. Get in here. Now,” he snapped out. _You are fucked, Reese. Royally FUCKED._

I dropped my go bag by my desk, taking in a deep breath and trying to compose myself as I made my way into Hotch’s office. I slowly opened the door, peaking inside nervously. Hotch looked up, his voice as cold as ice. “Get in here and take a seat. Now. I won’t tell you again.”

I nodded, stepping inside and closing the door, slowly making my way over to the chairs in front of his desk and sitting down. I was fidgeting with my fingers, nervousness radiating off of me. I knew I smelled like alcohol and that I looked like a hungover mess, but I was so upset I couldn’t bring myself to care. I was about to break apart. Hotch took in a deep breath, trying to get a hold of his anger. “Where the fuck were you?” he asked calmly. That scared me more. This was calm anger. The worst kind.

I swallowed. “I… I was a-at a ho-hotel, sir,” I said quietly, peering up at him cautiously. His eyes were boring into me, telling me not to step to him. Not to push him.

“Then why the fuck didn’t you answer my calls? Or my messages? Would you like to explain that, hm?” he asked in a low voice.

“I ju-just w-wanted to be l-left alone, s-sir,” I spluttered, my words shaky as fear began emerging inside me. I was starting to shake just barely. If Hotch noticed, he didn’t care. That was fair, after all. I had given him good reason to be mad. Not mad. Angry.

His jaw clenched, making me swallow again. “Then why did you come in 15 minutes late, reeking of liquor?”

“I had a rough ni-night, sir. I’m sorry. I won’t be late again, sir,” I said, trying to start righting my wrongs.

The look he gave me was downright feral, his face twisting into a look of disgust. “A rough night? That’s the best you’ve fucking got? You disappear and turn your phone off and I don’t know where you are, and the best you can do is ‘a rough night’? That’s fucking pathetic and you know it,” he sneered, anger seeping into his words like venom.

My eyes hardened, something dark inside me straining for release. “Yeah. A rough night. They happen, Hotch. I’m sorry I was late and I’m sorry I worried you, but right now I really don’t want to talk about it,” I replied coldly, my position becoming more hostile.

He laughed, the sound dark and full of rage. “Of course. Why talk about it? Why cope with whatever the fuck is bothering you in a healthy way? No, no, no. You run off and get drunk and do something stupid like fucking always. Why do I even think you would do anything different?” he hissed, taunting me.

“Oh fuck off, Hotch. You don’t know what the fuck I’m dealing with,” I shot back, my eyes hardening further, dark rage swimming in my eyes.

He scoffed at that, smirking at me coldly. “Oh, I don’t? Who the hell do you think has to deal with the aftermath of your god damn nightmares? Of your panic attacks? I know what the fuck is happening, you’re just too weak to admit it,” he snarled.

The tension snapped, that dark feeling taking over as I spoke. “Excuse me?” I asked, my voice downright dangerous.

“You fucking heard me,” he responded, just as cold. Just as tense and dangerous.

“You want to know why I got drunk, _Aaron?”_ I hissed, standing up and taking the card from my back pocket, dropping it in front of him on the desk. “I got drunk in that hotel room because my BEST FRIEND DIED. I was a little upset and I didn’t want to bother you. I needed space,” I sneered, my eyes cold and full of newfound rage. I was pissed. Not nervous or scared anymore. I was angry. Enraged.

He opened his mouth to speak but I cut him off. “No. You don’t get to fucking speak. I’m weak to you? That’s what I am? What happened to me being the ‘strongest human being you’ve ever met’? Was that a lie? I bet it was. It seems that everyone I fucking love always lies to me. If anything, you’re pathetic, Hotch,” I spat coldly.

He stood himself, his body nearly radiating with anger. “You’re on suspension for the next week. Go back to the apartment. We’ll talk about this later,” he ordered.

I laughed at that. I fucking _laughed_. His eyes got darker, even more angry at what he perceived as downright disrespectful. “NO. YOU KNOW WHAT, AARON? I’LL MEET WITH STRAUSS AND RESIGN. I MEAN ACCORDING TO YOU, I’M TOO WEAK FOR THIS JOB. NO OTHER DIVISION SHOULD GET SOMEONE SO WEAK, RIGHT?” I roared.

“Reese, I didn’t—”

I didn’t let him finish, an enraged, sadistic smile on my face. I didn’t take my eyes off his as I unclasped the leather band, taking it in my hand. I tossed it to him, watching as he caught it deftly. The look of shock on his face made me even more enraged. “Take your fake ass love and leadership and protection… and fucking _choke on it_ , Aaron,” I said dismissively, not bothering to take in his reaction as I stormed out of his office.

The looks of shock from my co-workers didn’t stop me as I scooped up my bag. I picked up my desk phone, dialing Strauss and holding the phone to my ear. I watched as Aaron came and watched from the small balcony that overlooked the bullpen.

“Strauss.”

“Good morning, ma’am. This is Agent Reese Benson. I work in the BAU under Agent Hotchner,” I started, looking Aaron dead in the eyes, a look of contempt and anger on my face. “I was wondering if I could meet with you sometime this week? Not today but whenever you have a space in your schedule.”

“Yes. I can on Thursday at noon. Can you do that, Agent Benson?” Strauss asked, unaffected by my call.

“Yes, ma’am, I can do that. I’ll see you then,” I said, trying to get off the hook as fast as possible.

“Can I know what this is about, Agent Benson?” she asked.

“It’s easier to explain in person, ma’am.”

“Alright. Noon Thursday. Don’t be late,” she warned.

“See you then, ma’am. Goodbye.” I hung up, looking away from Aaron to my co-workers, all frozen from shock. All of them. Even JJ and Garcia. Rossi was looking from Aaron to me from the threshold of his door. I didn’t care. I walked out of the bullpen without saying another word, not explaining anything as I left.

I was still vibrating with rage as I stepped into my cold, dark apartment. I threw my bag across the room, slamming the door. I stilled when a lamp turned on, revealing two men.

“Hello, little one. Were you a good boy for me while I was away?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading "The Shards of Our Souls".... onto the next... the beginning of the next part of the series is up btw. Proceed with caution!


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